


How to Be Someone

by varenoea2



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Bonding, Finished, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Phase Three (Gorillaz), The robot wants to be human, mentions of (canon) abuse, plastic beach, unlikely friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-22 21:14:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 22,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4850774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/varenoea2/pseuds/varenoea2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“My body is about forty percent human tissue”, says Cyborg finally. “If I worked hard to understand how persons function, do you think I could become a person?”</p><p>Originally a one-shot. BUT I've suddenly had an idea to pick it up and make it a few more chapters. The main focus is on the (weird) friendship that forms between 2D and Cyborg, who is trying to become human. But of course, there's sweaty mansex as well. Because of course there is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the characters or the location where the story takes place. All of these belong to Jamie Hewlett and Damon Albarn. This is a piece of fan fiction, written solely for fun, and no financial profit is being made.

They’re both sitting in the pink sand, eye on the sea, waiting for Murdoc to come back with the boat, unlucky guest stars, drinks and provisions (and probably a few new STDs).

2D stares at the waves. Cyborg has her face turned in the same direction, but she’s not staring. She’s just not moving her eyes. Staring would mean: to stop thinking. And Cyborg doesn’t think.

Does she?

“Cyborg”, says 2D, “do you ever think?”

“I process”, says Cyborg.

“No, I mean, do you ever think? Do you…” 2D has to gather his wits. He doesn’t think too often either. “Do you ever have things in your head… that nobody told you to process?”

“I do”, says Cyborg and nods her head without taking her eyes off the sea.

“Like what?”

“I only think of one question”, replies Cyborg calmly. Then suddenly she takes her eyes off the waves and looks at 2D. He can see the apertures of her irises tighten as they focus on him. “Will you answer it?”

Wow. Murdoc certainly never ordered her to do that. If she can ask questions, she must be curious. She must know feelings, even if only the tiniest seeds of emotions, and she has a mind of her own. 2D swallows and nods. “If I can. I’m no great thinker myself, you know.”

Cyborg waits for two seconds, then she asks with her precise voice: “Who is Noodle?”

“Noodle?” 2D’s heart suddenly overflows. “She’s… she was… a little girl. A great girl.”

“What is a girl?”

“Oh. Well… you see, Murdoc and me, we are boys. And you’re different. You’re a girl. And so was Noodle.”

“I cannot understand”, says Cyborg and wrinkles her forehead. “Why am I different?”

“Well, you’re like… like… like…”, 2D searches for an example of femininity, but it strikes him that there is none on Plastic Beach. “You’ve never met another girl, have you? Shit. Well. Noodle looked like you. And she was a girl like you. And she was a guitarist, and she sang on the records.”

Cyborg cocks her head gently. “Why am I not Noodle?”

“You’re not!”

“I am a girl, I am a guitarist, I sing on the records. Why am I not Noodle?”

2D has to think long and hard about this. “You’re not real. You’re a machine. You’re not a… a person.”

“If I became a person, would I become Noodle?” asks Cyborg meekly.

2D shakes his head. “No. Only one person can be Noodle.”

“But nobody _is_ Noodle at the moment. Why can I not fill the vacancy?”

“It’s… it’s not a vacancy, that’s why!” 2D is so upset that he nearly forgets that he’s afraid of Cyborg. “You can’t be… our new Noodle. You can be our new toaster, if Murdoc gives you a heater and two slits in the back, but you can never be Noodle. People… people don’t work like that. You can replace things, but never people.”

Cyborg wrinkles her forehead even more and screws her eyebrows together. “You are hurting my head”, she says.

“Sorry”, says 2D. He has been shouting.

“There is pressure in the bones under my eyes, and around my temples. I must be malfunctioning. My throat is constricting.”

“Is that what happens when you malfunction?” asks 2D carefully and shifts as far away from her as he dares.

“No, this has never happened before”, she says, and then her voice breaks. She gasps for air, and suddenly it hits 2D.

“You’re about to cry”, he whispers. “Please don’t cry. You’re a big girl, you shouldn’t cry!”

“I will try to avoid it”, says Cyborg and sits still until the urge passes.

2D also sits still. He has two things to think about. One: Cyborg can feel sadness. Two: Cyborg is sad because she cannot be Noodle.

“Would you like to be Noodle?” asks 2D.

“I would like to be Noodle because it would please Murdoc”, says Cyborg. “It would also please you, and you are being very kind to me at the moment. I have seen you cry because Noodle is not in existence any more. Having experienced it myself now, I know that crying is a very unpleasant experience. I would like to stop you from going through it.”

Her seriousness is almost funny.

“But you can’t”, wheezes 2D. “You can’t replace people. Especially not friends.”

“What is a friend?” asks Cyborg quickly, and 2D just knows that this question has been on her mind for a long time.

“A friend… is like me and Murdoc.”

“So Noodle is a girl who would beat you?”

“No! She’d never do that. She was nice to me.”

“I always thought that a friend would not damage your tissues on purpose”, nods Cyborg.

“That’s right. Friends are people… that you spend time with. That talk to you about things on your mind. And… you _enjoy_ spending time with them.”

“Am I your friend?”

“What? No!”

“Why not? I spend a lot of time keeping watch over you. We are talking about things on our minds at the moment, and I enjoy this conversation very much. Please tell me the difference.”

2D used to hate pre-school, the time of his life when he had to figure out some form of social life. But now it occurs to him that it’s much worse to be thrown into life without a few embarrassing years of sandbox friendships. Humans are a lot more complicated than he thought!

“We’ve only been talking for five minutes”, he says finally.

“How long does one need to talk before friendship begins?” asks Cyborg.

“Well… there’s no fixed time. It’s not about time, either. It’s about… feeling good when talking to someone. You’ll just know when you’re friends with someone.”

“I am afraid I am defective in this respect”, says Cyborg wistfully. “I would not know.”

“Besides, we can’t be friends”, says 2D. “You’re Murdoc’s slave. If he told you to shoot me, you would shoot me. Friends don’t damage each other’s tissues. Like you said.”

“Oh, I am not allowed to damage you”, says Cyborg lightly, “except to protect my master’s life.”

“Wait. You can’t shoot me if I try to run off?”

“No. I am to preserve your physical health in any way I can. But I would have to catch you.”

“Oh”, says 2D and makes a mental note.

They sit in silence for another while.

“My body is about forty percent human tissue”, says Cyborg finally. “If I worked hard to understand how persons function, do you think I could become a person?”

“Hm”, 2D ponders. The longer he thinks about it, the more Cyborg seems like a promising candidate. She knows sadness, enjoyment, longing, empathy, curiosity (and certainly aggression). She just doesn’t know what to do with them. “Yeah”, he nods finally. “I think you can. If you stay curious, and learn, and find out what you like, and keep having thoughts of your own. Yeah, I think you can become someone.”

“Can we become friends when I have become a person?” inquires Cyborg.

“Depends what kind of a person you become”, answers 2D carefully. “Some people are rotten. But I think we could be friends, yeah.”

She is not like Noodle. So completely different! Noodle was a wise old woman even when she was ten. Cyborg was born at age fourteen and is as dumb as a baby. Everybody loved Noodle. Cyborg has to ask for the privilege of asking questions. Noodle would never obey, Cyborg doesn’t know disobedience. Even though they look the same – there is no way of mistaking one for the other. And that’s a relief.

“Do you have any advice what kind of a person I should try to become?” asks Cyborg.

2D shrugs. “You’re going to figure it out, I guess. You’re doing okay so far.”

“Thank you for your help”, says Cyborg earnestly. “This conversation has been invaluable for my development.”

 

It would be a lie to say that they become friends after that. But 2D does feel a bit protective of Cyborg. Nobody else ever asked 2D for advice on how to think, or how to develop a personality. It’s a shame she malfunctions so often, and that Murdoc has no interest in teaching her anything except shooting, and washing his socks.

And when Noodle returns, and smashes Cyborg’s torso to bits and leaves her lying on the beach, nobody is particularly sad, except 2D. Oh, he’s high as a kite because Noodle is alive! But it’s sad for Cyborg. She was learning to be human, thinking she had a whole life ahead of her, and suddenly it’s all over. Because she’s only a dumb machine.

It doesn’t matter. Murdoc stuffs he leftovers into a box “for later”, and that’s that. As they leave Plastic Beach for the last time, 2D stares back at the island and thinks that maybe it’s for the best. Cyborg was just as artificial as that big pink thing. Imagine her trying to survive a normal day of grocery shopping in London! Maybe it was hopeless anyway. But at least, 2D thinks, in her better moments, she got to experience how friendship feels.

And then, the pink dot is finally swallowed up by the endless blue of the horizon.


	2. What's in a name?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyborg is trying to sniff out human needs, and learns something about the confusing way people use names. 
> 
> 2D has a flashback of something wonderful and terrible he can't get off his mind.
> 
> Murdoc... rearranges 2D's face. As usual.

The next day, he’s wasting time in his horrid underwater prison, watching movies he used to love (but now has seen too many times), and waits for lunch. And lunch comes with robotic steps. 

The lock clicks.

“Hello prisoner”, says Cyborg, and her voice sounds… almost cheerful. This surprises 2D so much that he actually lifts his head. “I have prepared your favourite food.”  
2D cranes his neck. “Who told you what my favourite food is?” With a little tug in his chest, he adds: “Murdoc?”

“No, my master was very busy”, explains Cyborg and puts down a tray on 2D’s bed. “So I used my connection to the database called internet, and I found several articles where you gave away information about your favourite food. They were called interviews. Then I looked up instructions how to cook it.”

“Oh”, says 2D. No, of course. Murdoc wouldn’t know his favourite food. But as he sits up and looks at the food bowl, a delicious scent wafts up into his nose. For the first time in days, he begins to feel peckish. And he realizes how hungry he has been, even though he couldn’t eat much. “Thank you. That smells… good!” It’s a large bowl of vegetables, and fried tofu pieces. There are even some fresh herbs on top. 2D never knew they had tofu on the island. Or fresh herbs. 

He puts some in his mouth, and suddenly he can’t stop. Not only is this his favourite food – someone bothered to find out what he likes. For the first time in weeks, he feels that someone cares about him. And to think that it’s Cyborg who made it happen!

Cyborg politely stands by, as if she’s waiting for his judgement.

“Don’t you want to sit down?” 2D asks with his mouth full and pats the bed.

“There is no need for me to sit down, I do not tire from standing.”

“But you’re making me nervous when you stand there and watch me.”

“Then I will sit down.”

2D munches and munches while Cyborg watches him with interest.

“Would you like to have the same tomorrow?” she asks.

“Oh yes!”

A few more minutes of munching in silence, and then 2D puts down the empty bowl. “Thank you. That was lovely.” He hasn’t managed to eat a whole meal in days. How can an unfeeling machine have such a big heart, compared to a real, living man?

“I noticed that you would not eat your food lately”, she replies. “I thought perhaps it was the wrong kind of nutrition for you.”

2D bites his lip. “Nah, it’s not your fault. No. I’m just… not well.”

“Which part of you is defective?” inquires Cyborg.

2D says thinks about that question for a long time.

 

_  
“’ey… faceache… you awake?”_

_“Whozzat?”_

_“Tooth Fairy.”_

_“Muds, it’s two in the morning, I wanna sleep, what are you…”_

_“I n-need you to do something for me.”_

_“You’re drunk.”_

_“You don’ say. See, there’s this tiny liiittle thing I nee’ you to do for me.”_

_2D sighs. Murdoc won’s go away until he gets what he wants. Especially drunk._

_“See, I came over all… wanting to give someone a good tromboning. So I figured, you’ll do.”_

_“Why don’t you do it to Cyborg?”_

_“No holes.”_

_“Oh.”_

_“So move over. You’ll like it.”_

_2D feels a weight settle in the pit of his stomach. Girls have offered him rim jobs, back when he was a famous rock star and not a prisoner in someone’s basement, but he’s always said no. Now… this._

_It’s not fair._

_“It’s a hundred pounds for everybody else, and fer you it’s free, ‘cause you’re sooo pretty”, coos Murdoc into his ear._

_2D isn’t very bright. But he knows danger when he sees it. So he sets his mind: No, Murdoc, you can’t do that with me. I’m not your groupie. I have dignity and style. I’m not some kind of bendover._

_He draws a deep breath and straightens his spine. And then his stupid, stupid mouth says: “Sounds lovely.”_

_It’s not the rimming Murdoc is after, of course. Although it’s heavenly! And then Murdoc takes him from heaven to hell and back, and 2D just lets it happen. The bitter, the painful, the sick and wrong and the sweet release. And while he’s lying there, sore and soiled, teeth still in the pillow, he realizes that he’s happy. Invigorated. Alive. Fucked and happy._

_But that… that was while ago._

 

“You haven’t answered my question”, says Cyborg. “Do you not know?”

“No”, says 2D. “I don’t know. The food was lovely, though. But what really made me happy is that you tried to cheer me up. Thanks for that.”

Cyborg pulls up the corners of her mouth automatically. It looks nothing like a smile. “I aim to become a good person”, she answers. “My empathy appears to improve with use. Is there anything else I can do to alleviate your apathy?”

2D shakes his head. His heart sinks. “No. Not really.”

“Then will you explain to me the concept of interview?”

“Uh.” 2D has to try and see things from Cyborg’s point of view. “Well. An interview is for letting people know what… what other people think. Like, what I think, for example.”  
“Can they not just ask you themselves?”

“No. No, you see, on this island there’s just Muds and me, and you, but out there – there are millions of people.” He thinks about it for a while, then adds: “Billions. They can’t all ask me.”

“It seems to be an ineffective system”, says Cyborg, “if everybody wants to know everything about everybody in a group of billions.”

“No, not everybody. Just celebrities. People who do special stuff. Everybody wants to know what celebrities think. Muds and me, we’re celebrities. Because we do music that sells a lot of records. You’ll see it.” 2D adds sadly: “When we go on tour.”

“Will we meet those billions of people?”

“Not all of them, but a lot. You know, that’s why we hide on this island. Too many people know us, too many people want to visit us. Or kill us. Out here, we’re alone.”  
“And I will protect you”, adds Cyborg. “I have been given permission to take you for a walk on the beach. Would you like to go?”

“Yeah, sure.” 2D gets up from his bed. The stuffy air in here is becoming oppressive. The vents must be broken again.

“Then you can answer some more questions”, says Cyborg. So that’s what she’s after!

She leads him into the lift, and then out through the lobby, and into the brilliant sunshine. 2D sighs. The air over the pink-painted plastic is wobbling with the heat. “It’s a million times better out here than in that prison Murdoc calls the basement”, he scowls.

Cyborg leads him along a path between the palm trees. “Why does my master have two designations”, she asks, “but we have only one?”

“???”

“He is Master, and he is also Murdoc. You are Prisoner. I’m Cyborg.”

“I’m not Prisoner”, snorts 2D. “That’s just a word. That’s not my name.”

“Please explain to me the concept of name.” Cyborg turns her head to him and focuses intently on his black eyes. “How is it different from the concept of word?”

2D wrinkles his forehead. “A name… is what your parents give you. A name is not what you are, but… just something that sounds nice. Murdoc is a name. Master is a word. He’s only your master, not mine.”

“But he’s your Murdoc?”

2D feels a pang near his heart. “Well. He’s everybody’s Murdoc. Names are… for everybody.”

“I see.” Cyborg nods her head with the tiniest metallic squeak. “In the same way, you are my prisoner, but you are everybody’s Facheache.”

“That’s not my name either!!” 

“Then why does Murdoc refer to you as faceache?”

“Because he’s an ugly, jealous old goth, and he can’t deal with me being more handsome than him!” 2D snorts. “My name is Stu. Or Stuart, for short.” He thinks for a bit. “Or 2D, if you like. But not faceache.”

Cyborg is honestly confused now. She beeps and processes a bit. Then she says: “You are being very helpful. I have a lot to learn. But answer me one final question: Do I have a name?”

2D cocks his head. “No. Only persons have names.”

“Will I receive a name when I become a person?”

“Yeah.”

“What will it be?”

“Uh”, mumbles 2D. “You know what, I’ll think of something. Something nice. For a girl. Like, the name of a flower or something.” He goes through the list of Japanese words in his mind (which isn’t very long). 

“Artichoke?”

“No!! No, not like that. A nice flower. An artichoke is not a nice flower, just a… useful flower. Look, a nice flower is something like this.” A few steps ahead, 2D sees a hibiscus brush. “This would be a nice flower. But”, he scowls and realizes that this was not a good example, “you wouldn’t name a girl hibiscus. I don’t think you’d do that, anyway.”

“Why is it nice?”

2D rips one off the bush and holds it out to Cyborg. “Because – look, it’s colourful and it has these bobbles here in the middle, see?”

Cyborg nods, but before she can ask another question, there’s a rough call coming from behind. “The hell are you doing?!”

2D drops the flower and nearly has a heart attack. But then he mans up and stands in front of Cyborg, all 6.2 of him. Murdoc won’t make him cower and crumble. Not this time.  
Now if he only knew a witty reply…

“The prisoner is explaining to me the difference between useful flowers and nice flowers”, says Cyborg.

“Ah.” Murdoc looks 2D up and down (mostly up). “Flowers. Yeah. He would.”

“You never explain anything to her”, says 2D angrily.

“It’s not a she. It’s an it.”

“Before that, he explained to me the difference between words and names”, Cyborg continues brightly. “I found out that Master is my word for you, but Murdoc is everybody’s word for you. And that prisoner is my word for the prisoner, but he has four different names, not just one, like you. His longest name is for short, and one of his names is faceache, but only you use it, because you’re an ugly, jealous old goth who can’t handle the prisoner being more handsome than you are.”

2D closes his eyes very slowly.

“Ah”, says Murdoc. “Cyborg, be a dear and go inside. I need to have a word alone with faceache.” And 2D doesn’t like his look at all. His heart sinks even deeper than it already is.

Maybe next lifetime I’ll come back as an artichoke, he thinks. Artichokes have it easy.


	3. Jam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2D and Cyborg are spending quality time at the beach. The Black Clouds attack.

_Then, it becomes a ritual. Once or twice a week, Murdoc drops by nonchalantly at night for a brass interlude. 2D doesn’t mind. At the worst of times, it’s okay. At the best, it’s amazing._

_There is only one problem, an elephant in the room nobody mentions. 2D is in love with Murdoc, and has been for twelve years. And every time they are apart for a few weeks, or months, and 2D starts over elsewhere, he stops thinking about Murdoc so much, and he thinks that maybe he’s over it. And then he sees the bastard again, and it all comes crashing back._

_Loving someone you can’t have is a constant, nagging pain in the heart._

_But now that they’re shagging, with Murdoc’s skin on his own, and the sweat they share, and the way their bodies interlock – it keeps getting worse, and worse. The closeness, the smell, the touches._

_It’s a horrible idea, but Murdoc is probably the love of 2D’s life._

_That’s not how he imagined his life would go. But the heart wants what it wants._

 

“It’s a sunny day”, says Cyborg. “Would you like to go out again?”

“Oh yeah.” 2D jumps up from the bed. Who knew that an inquisitive robot would become his ticket to freedom!

“Will you show me some of the things humans do for enjoyment?” 

“Sure.” 2D kneads his lip and thinks about it. What do you do with a fourteen-year-old for enjoyment? “We could play video games. But we don’t have a computer here.” He ponders. “We can go swimming. Can you swim? Well, I think you’d better not get wet with saltwater.”

“It is bad for my diodes”, says Cyborg sadly. 

“Hm. We could jam.”

“I do not eat. I run entirely on electric energy.”

“Not eat jam! Make music. You take a guitar, and I take my keys with the batteries, and we could go out to the beach and play.”

“I see”, says Cyborg, so they do.

 

She sings exactly like Noodle, thinks 2D, even though her speaking voice is different. And she knows a lot of songs, and their whole arrangements, and how to do the backup vocals. 

“Okay, now, let’s play something new”, says finally. “We’ll jam, okay? I’ll play some chords in A minor, and you just jam to it.” He hits the chords, but Cyborg doesn’t start picking strings. 2D looks up encouragingly. Cyborg looks at him with her head cocked.

He stops. “You just use the A minor scale and invent a melody with the notes in it”, he explains.

“Cannot process.”

“Do you know the scale?”

“I know all scales of Western music. Cannot process invent.”

“You just take notes and put them in an order where they sound good.”

“How do I know if something sounds good?”

2D wrinkles his forehead. “You just… do.”

Cyborg shakes her head sadly. “I do not. I have no creativity, and no sense of visual or auditory appeal. I can merely follow pre-produced patterns or piece things together at random.”

“Oh.” 2D didn’t mean to make her sad. “That’s alright. Not every human can jam, either.”

“Will I ever become a person if I am not creative?” asks Cyborg softly.

2D chews his lip. He doesn’t know. How does one become creative? He has been creative for as long as he can remember. He wouldn’t know how to stop. 

“I dunno”, he finally says. “But you have a part-human brain, you know. You just have to try, and… form an opinion. What you like and what you don’t like.”

Cyborg starts to pluck her guitar and mix notes from scales in a new order. It sounds mechanical and not at all like a person jamming. 

2D’s thoughts start to drift away.

 

_He’s tried to kiss Murdoc while they were shagging, especially in the beginning. Murdoc never lets him._

_He also doesn’t let 2D touch him. He touches 2D just enough to get him hot, and then they fuck._

 

“Prisoner”, says Cyborg, “get behind me.” She puts her guitar down into the sand and takes her gun from her shoulder.

2D looks up. A helicopter is approaching against the cloudless, blue sky. It’s only a tiny speck in the distance, but you can see the dragonfly shape.

“Black Clouds?” he asks.

Cyborg cocks her gun and keeps it aimed at the helicopter, which has started to fly a long semi-circle around the island. 

“Why don’t you shoot?” asks 2D nervously. What should he do? Is it safe to stay here?

And then he hears a faint rattle from behind. Another helicopter becomes visible over the towering building, high up in the sky. Cyborg turns to keep an eye on both. 

“They are too far away”, explains Cyborg coolly.

“Should I go inside?” asks 2D.

Cyborg doesn’t answer.

And then there’s a bang, and a flash in the air, and the sand flies up beside 2D.

“Blimey! _They_ can shoot at _us_ ”, he squeaks.

Cyborg turns around, and while she does, the second helicopter approaches fast and another noise fills the air. A piece of the glass dome on top of the building splinters and flies away in bits.

2D cowers in the sand behind Cyborg’s legs. He squeezes his eye sockets onto his knees and whimpers with fear. He would be safer inside, but he doesn’t dare get up and run the fifty yards to the building. 

Please let me survive this, he thinks, oh God, I need to get out of here! Let Cyborg shoot her best, and get us out of this mess!

Another bullet hits the sand, not two yards away. 2D screams with fright. And then it starts to rain bullets, rat-tat-tat-tat, all around them, and Cyborg cocks her gun again and shoots, and that sound is even louder.

2D can’t bear it. He squeezes his eyes shut.

 

_“What’s that smell?”_

_“I brought new lube.” Murdoc bites him on the back of the neck, just hard enough, but not too hard. “It’s desensitizing. To loosen you up. You’re too pretty to get hurt, after all.” And he snickers, but it sounds friendly._

_“Smells like cherries”, says 2D and turns around to sniff it._

_“Well. A bit too late for the occasion, but better late than never. Hehe.”_

_“Okay. But don’t be too rough. Just because I’m… de… desanitized.”_

_And then everything is dark, and still, and wonderful._

 

What a moment to remember, 2D thinks. When all he had to worry about was the right kind of lube… and now he’s about to be torn apart by bullets.

Cyborg shoots again, and suddenly there is a bang, louder than anything 2D has ever heard before. He thinks he’s gone deaf, forever, and then he sees the closer one of the two helicopters burst into flames and fall out of the sky like a rock.

He looks up and sees Cyborg’s eyes focusing on him, her mouth opening and shouting words at him, but he can’t hear a sound. Cyborg lifts her gun again and fires at the second helicopter. The bullet seems to hit the rotating blades, and for a moment they stop and the helicopter sways like a bumblebee.

Slowly, 2D’s hearing returns.

“Prisoner!” screeches Cyborg from far away. “Run to the house! Quick! You have 2.5 seconds to get to safety!”

2D scrambles to his feet and runs. 2.5 seconds, he’ll never make it! He runs and falls and gets back up, loses his shoe, and stumbles on. Bullets hit the sand behind him, and suddenly in front of him, and he turns left and then right and falls face first into the soil. 

He can’t stay here. His back is offering the biggest possible target. So he rolls over, jumps up again – he has been captive down in the basement for so long, he’s already out of breath – and then he makes it to the white walls. Mouth full of sand, arms scratched and with only one shoe on his foot.

Cyborg is hit by a bullet on the arm and spins around, but then she lifts the gun – the helicopter is now only twenty feet above her – and she fires. And she hits it. 2D has his hands over his ears, so he is spared the worst of the blast, but the brightness of the explosion blinds him for a moment. 

When he opens his eyes again, he sits against the wall of the building. Out there in the water, the ruined remains of the helicopter are bobbing on the surface. Groaning cries can be heard, and a human figure hauls itself out of the cockpit and onto the roof. 

Cyborg shoots. The figure goes silent and slips into the sea.

Then all is quiet.

Cyborg is covered in sand, and her arm is bleeding. 2D gets up unsteadily and walks over to her, looking up at the sky carefully, to see if any more helicopters are on the horizon.

“Cyborg, you’re injured.”

“It is only the flesh layer on top of my machinery”, declares Cyborg lightly. “My master will plug me up to special electrodes, which will stimulate flesh growth. Tomorrow the wound will be closed.” And indeed, there is only a drop of blood or two.

2D sighs and looks out at the sea, where the bodies of the pilots must be becoming fish food now. “Thank you”, he says, not sure what to think. “You saved us.”

Cyborg raises her eyebrows. “This is what I am programmed to do. There is no need to thank me”, she replies.

2D looks at her incredulous face. Then she smiles that terrible, off smile again. 

“Cyborg, do you feel bad about killing those pilots?”

“They were attacking you.”

“What if you hadn’t killed them? Just, I dunno, captured them?”

“This would be far more inefficient and dangerous. Why would you wish for me to capture them?”

“Dunno. I guess… they’re people, and killing people isn’t a good thing to do.”

Cyborg wrinkles her forehead again. “I am programmed to kill everybody who tries to harm you, save only my master. It took me a long time to learn to kill quickly”, she adds with a sense of accomplishment.

“Well”, says 2D without much conviction, “it’s not nice.”

“Why is it not nice?” asks Cyborg innocently. “When you kill someone, they spill red. Hibiscus flowers are red. Hibiscus flowers are nice. Is red not nice?”

How the hell do you answer that?

“If Murdoc told you – just in case he did, you know, ask you to do a bad thing”, warbles 2D carefully, “would you do it?”

“A bad thing is a thing Murdoc wants me to avoid”, Cyborg replies. She opens her mouth and nose and thinks for a moment. “Is it not?"

2D’s shoulders sag. How is he going to get ethics, morals, the value of life into Cyborg’s little metal head? He spits out some sand, and then he says thoughtfully: “Not really, no. But the whole thing’s very complicated, even for humans. I guess for the moment you can stick to it.”


	4. Good girl

“Good girl”, roars Murdoc. “Well done!”

2D tries to sneak past him, but Murdoc grabs him by the sleeve. 

“What have you been up to out there?”

“Jamming.”

“Next time you do that in the basement, get it? Both of you.” He looks Cyborg up and down. “Cyborg, girl, you’ve been shot! Let’s repair you.” He turns to 2D again and grins. 

“Well, isn’t she the best thing I’ve ever created? Say it. She’s a masterpiece. A work of genius! Say it.”

2D nods.

“Come on, both of you. 2D, I want you to see how to repair her. In case you ever need to do it while I’m gone.”

They all go up to Murdoc’s bedroom (2D has been here before, but not often). The bedroom has an adjoining bathroom, and Cyborg lies down in the tub and runs herself a bath. She needs it, considering that she is covered in sand and dirt up to her chin. But that’s not the purpose of the exercise.

“See, the water is to make increase conductivity”, explains Murdoc. “And now I’m gonna plug this in.” There’s a small box, with two electrodes on cables and a plug for a light socket, which he puts on the rim of the tub. “You just switch it on and put the electrodes into the water. Just don’t dunk your hand in the soup afterwards, okay, faceache? It’s pretty charged. After six hours, it switches off by itself. You can heal any flesh wound on her with that thing.”

Cyborg, head over water, watches the two men with trusting interest.

“Anyway”, continues Murdoc, “I’ve got to leave the Beach for a few more days. There are some people I have to meet. While I’m gone, you stay out of danger. That means no strolls around the beach, get it?”

“Yes, Murdoc.”

“You’ll be quiet, write a few new songs, and behave.”

“Yes, Murdoc.” 2D realizes that he still has sand between his teeth, and goes to the sink.

Murdoc narrows his eyes. “And one more thing: I don’t want you spending so much time with Cyborg. It’s getting downright creepy, the way you’re grooming her. She’s my masterpiece, but she’s not Noodle. No matter how much you want her to be.”

2D splashes his face and rinses his mouth, trying to find the words. Then he looks up angrily. “I know that. I don’t want her to be Noodle. I’m not that dumb, you know. But she’s nice.”

“She’s not nice. She – she’s not even a she. She’s a piece of metal in a meat envelope.”

Cyborg looks from one to the other and back with interest.

“She’s nicer’n you.” 2D tries to stagger back to the bedroom, but Murdoc shoves him into the doorframe.

“You think you can re-program her to help you escape, is that it?” he snorts. “You with your pea-sized brain?”

“I’m teaching her, if you must know”, says 2D haughtily. “She wants to become a real human girl. So I’m teaching her stuff. Like you should, because you’re practically her dad, but you won’t.”

Murdoc stares at 2D blankly for about half a minute, and then he says: “Who do you think you are? The fucking Blue-haired Fairy?!”*

2D doesn’t know what’s just been said to him, but he’s pretty sure it’s an insult. His face begins to flush and burn. “I’m not a fairy, you poof! And anyway, if I’m a fairy, it’s your fault! I never did nothing with guys before you made me do it with you!”

Well, that came out before he could stop it. Only then does he realize that Cyborg is in the room. There will be questions. Oh, the questions there will be! His face burns even hotter.

But Murdoc just grins. He has no shame. “I know”, he says smugly. 

And this is what makes 2D so mad that he doesn’t hold back any more. Let Cyborg ask what she wants! 

“You’re prob’ly just doing with me what they did with you in Tijuana, just because you can”, he splutters. 

It earns him his first shiner since he’s been on this island. While he’s still sitting on the floor, wondering how the hell he got here, Murdoc towers over him. Cyborg still looks over the rim of the tub with interest, but makes no move to intervene.

“You don’t want me to show you how things went in Tijuana, believe you me”, Murdoc snarls.

“I love you”, says 2D. He’s not sure why he did it then and there, but it felt like he had to.

Murdoc winces, and looks at him as if he’s lost his mind. But he doesn’t even seem surprised. “Get that bullshit out of your head, dullard”, he growls.

2D staggers to his feet, holding a hand on his throbbing eye. “Then maybe you shouldn’t put your dick in me!”

“THAT’S TWO DIFFERENT THINGS!”

“And if you don’t want me to love you, then you shouldn’t have kidnapped me all the way from Beirut. It’s like you can’t live without me.”

“Listen, faceache”, snarls Murdoc and pokes 2D in the chest, “I don’t give a fuck about you, and never did. Not a toss. You know what you are to me? You’re a big, pink bag of meat with two holes. One for singing, one for my dick. And that’s all you are. Oh, and a pretty face. But that’s it. Don’t you think you’re fucking special.”

_A big, pink bag of meat with two holes._

2D feels tears sting behind his eyelids. He’s used to insults, but not like this. And Cyborg is here to hear it too, with that terrible, interested look in her face. And this is what she’s learning: that 2D is not even human to her master. 

He doesn’t mean it, 2D tells himself. Nobody can mean something like that. 

Murdoc sees the gash he has made, and he swings the axe into it again. “And if I could find someone with your voice and a nice spot-free face, I would replace you in a heartbeat. Faces like yours are ten a penny.”

If he doesn’t mean it, why doesn’t he stop saying it? He could stop at any time. 

Cyborg begins to hum and process. “Master, would you like me to make a suggestion?”

“No. Shut the fuck up.”

Cyborg obediently shuts it.

And 2D lifts his head, and with his last shred of dignity he says: “I’m going to my room."

And then he goes off, crying under his breath all the way, and locks himself in his prison cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * The Blue-Haired Fairy, or more correctly, the Fairy with Turquoise Hair, is a character from Pinocchio. She tries to educate Pinocchio and finally makes his biggest wish come true when she turns him into a human boy. Murdoc would probably know that (see page 1 of "Rise of the Oger"). 2D probably - not so much.


	5. Juice Orgy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2D is heartbroken. Cyborg tries to cheer him up, so she goes along with his impromptu juice orgy. As it turns out, several liters of cold juice, several hours in the sun and heart-brokenness don't mix well.
> 
> Oh, and Cyborg is learning how to curse.

2D has never been this heart-broken. Not after Rachel, not after Paula. Not after anything, except of course the day his father died. But this here… this is different. This has not ending and no closure. This will keep on hurting and hurting for as long as he’s imprisoned here. As long as his soul is in the hands of this rotten, sadistic bastard – for ever.  
Murdoc has forbidden Cyborg from letting 2D out of the basement altogether for the time he’s away. But it doesn’t matter. 2D doesn’t want to go anywhere, or do anything. He just wants to lie on his bed, and occasionally cry.

“Prisoner”, says Cyborg, “please explain to me the nature of love.”

2D looks up. “No”, he barely manages to say. “Not today, Cyborg.”

“You are crying”, says Cyborg. “Are you sad?”

2D, who has spent the 24 hours in this position, nods. “Yeah.”

“Should we jam?” asks Cyborg and cocks her head. “Would it make you less sad?”

“No.”

“Will you become less sad by yourself? Or is it a defect in your circuit board that requires repairing?”

“I’ll stop being sad eventually”, says 2D, though it doesn’t feel like he ever will.

“If my master were here, he could probably repair you faster”, sighs Cyborg. 

“That… that _master_ of yours is the most defective guy in the world”, snorts 2D bitterly. “He keeps breaking shit and never repairs it.” 

They are silent for a while. 

“Would you like something to eat?” asks Cyborg, and 2D thinks he can detect the faintest trace of empathy in her voice.

“No. Thanks.”

“How long can a human go without food?” asks Cyborg.

“Oh, a long time”, says 2D lightly. “Years.” Maybe then she will stop offering the stuff.

Cyborg sits down on the side of the bed. She must have made a mental note that 2D likes his visitors to sit down.

“Prisoner, will you explain a very confusing thing to me? What is a dick?”

Ah. Here it comes. Of course she wants to know.

“Well, it’s something that boys have”, sighs 2D and wipes his eyes. She won’t leave him to wallow in his misery alone, so he might as well let her ask. “Have you… have you ever seen a guy naked?”

“I have seen my master walking around his bedroom naked multiple times.”

“Ah.” Of course. No way in hell would Murdoc put on pants just because there is a young girl walking around the place. “Well, there’s a… sorta wrinkly… thing, remember that?” Then he adds vengefully: “It’s really quite tiny. You can hardly see it. And it looks very unused. You know the one I mean?”

“Attached to his crotch?”

“That’s a dick. It’s for… peeing and… for fun. Every guy is born with one.”

Cyborg nods earnestly. “How does he apply it to you?” 

2D can’t answer. He shakes his head grievingly. “Listen, Cyborg, I don’t want to talk about it. Why don’t you go and ask the database called the internet?”

“I will.” Cyborg closes her eyes and rattles quietly for a few minutes. 

Then she opens her eyes. She has seen things she will never unsee, thinks 2D. 

In complete astonishment, she asks: “ _Why_ do humans do this?”

“To make new humans”, replies 2D tiredly and rolls up on his other side. “And for fun.”

“Fun would be the same thing as sexual gratification?” asks Cyborg.

“Yeah.”

“Blimey.”

2D turns around. “What?!”

“Blimey. You used it yesterday as an expression of surprise. Can I use it too?”

2D blinks. “Yeah. Just don’t use bad words.” He thinks about that for a moment. “A bad word is… anything if it has to do with sex or pooh. Like, fuck. Or shit. Just don’t curse.”  
“But I would like to learn to curse”, says Cyborg. “It seems very human to me.”

“Well”, says 2D. “I’m not teaching you how to curse. It’s not nice.”

Cyborg hangs her shoulders. “Can I teach myself?”

“Yeah. Just don’t go using Murdoc’s curse words. They’re rotten.” Then 2D thinks about it, and says: “Like the rest of him, every last bit.”

 

It’s four days before Murdoc returns. Sometimes, 2D can see rain hit the surface of the water outside his window, sometimes the silvery surface is lit brilliantly by the sun. But down here, every day is the same. It doesn’t matter what goes on outside. 

He is still in this terrible state. He has hardly eaten, done nothing but cry, and tried very hard not to think. He can’t even go on teaching Cyborg. All her questions seem to revolve around emotions, and he doesn’t want to face any of them.

Even the whale – if it appears at all – cannot frighten him. If it wants to eat him, let it. That would end his misery. Maybe Murdoc can take a bit of DNA from 2D’s toothbrush and build himself another robot slave.

But then he hears voices from up above – he cannot hear exactly what’s being said, but it’s probably Cyborg reporting to Murdoc – and then the mean old bastard comes down the stairs. 2D has spent the last four days crying his heart out over him, but face him now? Impossible!

So he pretends to be asleep. 

Unfortunately, with his eyes closed, he flinches and jumps as soon as Murdoc grabs his shoulder.

“Ugh”, says Murdoc. “Cyborg, take him outside. He looks like one of those things that live under rocks. Like a maggot.”

“Come with me, prisoner”, says Cyborg kindly.

2D sits up and stares at his feet. 

“Put him in the sunshine”, says Murdoc. “Boy, I’m hungover. I’m going to sleep.”

 

Cyborg takes him out onto one of the high terraces. Everything is empty and white here, except for a few deck chairs. Not even umbrellas. The moment the sun hits his skin, 2D feels life return into his system.

“Make yourself comfortable”, says Cyborg. “Should we sit down?”

They don’t talk for a long while. And even though 2D didn’t want to come out here, he is feeling better.

“It’s not so bad”, he says. It’s as if the sun is drying out the festering wound on his soul. Drying it out and making it scab over. For the first time in days, he thinks that maybe he can just forget about all this bullshit. It’s not like he needs it, really. 

The palm trees are swaying in the breeze. 

“We could do with some cool drinks, what do you think?” he asks Cyborg.

“We?” Cyborg asks back. 

“Oh. You don’t drink, I forgot.”

“I have taste buds”, replies Cyborg. “Otherwise, I could not prepare your food. But I have to rinse my mouth afterwards.”

2D leans back and sighs. “I could do with some ice-cold orange juice. Or pineapple juice. Or anything. Have you ever tried juice?”

“No.”

“Why don’t we go and get juice? I can drink, and you can try.”

Cyborg nods earnestly. “I would very much like to try different flavours.”

They get a tray and two glasses and a bowl of ice cubes and many, many packages and bottles. 2D goes through Murdoc’s small syrup collection – for cocktails – and he doesn’t care what Murdoc will say. The bastard. 

Then, 2D begins the degustation. 

“This is orange”, says and splashes a little juice into the bottom of one glass. “Cheerio.” And he adds an ice cube and hands the glass to Cyborg.   
Cyborg lets it run into her mouth, splashes it around a bit and then asks: “Where do I dispose of it?”

“Oh, just spit it over the railing. It won’t hit anything important.”

Cyborg obeys. “It is a very enjoyable flavor!” she says brightly.

“One of humans’ favourites, really. Here’s pineapple!” 2D gives her a splash of the stuff. Then he downs his orange juice in one draught, and helps himself to pineapple as well. 

Cyborg wrinkles her face. “Ugh. It’s very sweet.”

“You don’t like it?”

“Not as much as orange.”

“See, you’re forming an opinion! That’s good.” 2D has decided to be in high spirits and have no care in the world, and that’s what he’s going to do. “Now just watch out.” He puts a little grenadine in his glass, and fills up with pineapple. “You can mix them.”

Cyborg wouldn’t miss any of his movements for the world. She takes her glass with grace and tries carefully, while 2D downs his drink and sits back on the deck chair. His belly is making splashing sounds. But he doesn’t care. It’s funny. He hasn’t done this since he was a child. 

Cyborg spits her drink over the railing like an old pro. Murdoc will be surprised when he looks down the building next time, 2D thinks. 

“And now”, he continues, “let’s try lime with orange and ginger ale. You can mix them any way you like.”

Cyborg sips and then exclaims: “Intercourse!”

“Huh?!”

“I am cursing.”

“Oh yeah, sure. Too sour?”

“At first, yes, but now it is quite pleasant.” Cyborg shakes her head, her eyes wide open. “It must be wonderful to put this into your stomach. So that you can keep it close for a long time!”

“Cheerio”, says 2D and downs another colourful glass. Next time he’s got to do this with alcohol. Just to see Cyborg react to it!

 

And a good time is had by all. By the end of the degustation, Cyborg can hardly speak, her hard-drive is so busy processing all the new flavours. The side of the building, where she spits down, looks like a rainbow of juice colours. 

“I should go inside”, says Cyborg finally. “My master wants me to bring him food at five. Come, prisoner.”

“No, please”, protests 2D. He feels like he is about to burst with juice, and his face is on fire from the shadeless heat on the platform. But he doesn’t want to leave. He doesn’t want to do anything. He doesn’t want to go back to his basement, or to eat, or to speak, or to do anything, or go anywhere. He just wants to stay put and do nothing, until the sky falls down. That way, he won’t have to face Murdoc again. “Let me stay out here. I promise I won’t do anything stupid. I’ll stay right here until you come back.”

Cyborg cocks her head doubtfully. “I cannot let you stay here alone.”

“Yeah, you can. Look, you can lock the door. Then I have to stay out here. The place is much too high for me to jump down, and too steep to climb. You can leave me here. It’s just as safe as my basement.”

Cyborg thinks about this for a moment. It’s not fair, 2D thinks. He could tell her anything, and she would believe it. 

“Fine”, she says finally. “I will prepare food and return to you in an hour.”

“Great”, says 2D.

Cyborg goes inside and locks the glass door that leads to the inside. 2D sits in his deck chair and stares up at the cloudless sky. He eats the leftover ice cubes, just for shit and giggles. He rubs them over his sunburn, which is getting bright red. He knows he’ll be sorry for staying in the sun so long, but he couldn’t care less.

He falls asleep to the sound of crying seagulls. It feels like he only slept for a moment, but when he wakes up, the foul taste in his mouth tells him he must have been asleep for at least an hour.

He finally notices how exhausted he is. Better get inside, he thinks, and stands up. Suddenly, the blood rushes to his head. Everything before his eyes turns black. The blackness vanishes quickly, but then his stomach turns. First he thinks he can hold it down, and he stands perfectly still for a minute. But just when he thinks it’s over, suddenly his food comes back to him, and even though he tries to stop it – he starts to throw up violently. And then this terrible weakness overcomes him. He falls to his knees, and then bends forward and pukes and pukes. Not much comes out, mostly just fruit juice. But it feels awful. Like his body hates that juice with a passion, and wants it out, and doesn’t care that 2D has to breathe. He even gets some up his nose. 

When it’s over, his stomach is still constricting. But hey, thinks 2D, now I feel better. He slowly pulls himself up to his feet and walks towards the door. The world is in a strange, yellow light. Every sight and every sound seems to come from far away.

Then he falls over again, and this time he has no strength to get up.

This should worry him. 

Everything goes white, and his head is hammering so hard he can hardly hear Cyborg’s steps as they approach.

“Prisoner?” 

He needs to get up, out of the sun. 

Cyborg, he wants to say, get help. Get someone. Get Murdoc. – Bloody hell, why does it always have to be about Murdoc? 

But he can’t say anything.

The last thing he hears is Cyborg dropping her gun and shouting: “Master! The prisoner is malfunctioning!”


	6. Burnt to a crips but self-repairing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the hurt-comfort part.

Everything is dark. Sweetly dark and cool. There are a few spots of sunlight between the blinds outside the windows, with specks of dust dancing in the rays. But other than that, everything is calm, and cool, and dark.

There is a wet, cold rag on his forehead. A drop of water has run into the inner corner of 2D’s left eye. He blinks it away.

“Hey”, says a gentle raspy voice above him.

“Huh?”

“Are you lucid?”

The room is quite dark, but he knows that that’s Murdoc, dabbing at his forehead with a washcloth. He tries to sit up, but the weight of his skull pulls him down. He’s not wearing anything. Except his briefs. There’s a blanket on top of him. 

“This isn’t the basement”, he remarks.

“You’re in my bed, dullard.” 

He knows that that must be Murdoc, but it can’t be Murdoc. Murdoc doesn’t talk so quietly.

The bed is soft. 2D’s face is on fire, itching and hot as hell. There are tiny little needle pricks all over his body.

“What’s happened?” 

“Heatstroke. Didn’t help that you were on hunger strike for the last few days. Cyborg told me about it.” He nods behind himself, and there stands Cyborg in the shadow. There is a purple bruise on her left cheek.

2D looks at Murdoc’s hand and sees that his knuckles are bandaged. 

Typical. Only Murdoc would punch a robot in the face. Even if he knows that there’s a thin layer of flesh on top, and then only metal. 2D smiles.

“Hey, you useless piece of junk, come here”, orders Murdoc. “Take his temperature.”

“I need to stick my finger in your ear”, explains Cyborg, screws off the top of her pinky finger, and puts it gently in 2D’s ear. After a few seconds, it beeps.

“39.6”, hisses Murdoc. “You left him out there in the heat, you bloody stupid toaster!”

“’ey, don’t blame her, she didn’t know that humans overheat”, 2D pipes in (albeit weakly).

“I suggest you give me a new program to improve my knowledge of humans”, says Cyborg lightly. She doesn’t even seem miffed about the abuse she’s suffered. 

Murdoc shoots her a dirty look, and then turns his attention to his singer. “Do you need anything? Or are you good?”

2D has seen a lot of scary things, but Murdoc’s soft bedside voice is creeping him out like nothing else. He quickly shakes his head. 

“I’ll be off. I have to check the radar.” Murdoc gets up. “Cyborg, you’re in charge. Take care of him. He can’t take care of himself. Never could.”

And he’s gone.

Cyborg comes out of the shadow. “I have broken you”, she says and looks down at her feet. “This is a great setback in my efforts to become a good person. I have done a bad thing.”

“It’s not your fault”, croaks 2D. “It’s mine.”

“Why?”

“’cause I didn’t get out of the sun”, explains 2D. “I can take care of myself, whatever Murdoc says. I just didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“’cause I didn’t care.”

Cyborg wrinkles her forehead. “I do not understand.”

“Sorry.” 2D sinks back into the pillow. God, he’s exhausted!

“Fortunately, my master is an excellent repairman”, Cyborg proclaims proudly. 

“Yeah”, remarks 2D. “He breaks stuff, and then he tries to repair it. All the time. Except it never ends up as good as it was”, and he thinks of his black eyes and missing front teeth.

Cyborg twitters on. “But when I have to be repaired, he straps me onto a rack. If he needs to access the diodes in my back, he sometimes hangs me up by my feet. I was surprised to see that humans have to be repaired in a horizontal position.”

“Yeah. Humans are always repaired like that”, 2D mumbles. 

“When will he repair you fully?”

2D can hardly wrap his brain around the question, but then he gets it. “He can’t do that. A doctor can fix you up, but you have to heal by yourself.”

“How do you heal? What does it require?” Cyborg cocks her head. 

“I just… do. I don’t have to do anything.”

Cyborg gasps. “Blimey! You’re self-repairing?”

“Well, everybody is. Murdoc and me, and the seagulls out there and everybody else on the planet.”

“Except me?” asks Cyborg in shock.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“GET THE BLOODY FACEACHE SOMETHING TO EAT!!” Murdoc shouts from somewhere below them. “TELL HIM I’LL MAKE HIM EAT HIS DICK IF HE WON’T EAT IT!!”

“Do you want me to make your favourite dish?” asks Cyborg expectantly.

2D, feverish and prickling all over his body, suddenly realizes how hungry he is. No wonder he’s so weak! “I’d rather have something else”, he says.

“Why?” asks Cyborg.

“Humans can’t eat the same thing every day”, explains 2D tiredly. “Not even their favourite. Cyborg, can you make me a curry?”

Cyborg’s pupils close entirely. Her head begins to rattle and hum. Then she nods. “Yes, I have found a lot of recipes!”

“A… a veggie vindaloo?”

“Yes!” Cyborg smiles her Stepford Wife smile, but her voice sounds happy.

“I owe you”, 2D says. “When I’m better, we’ll do hours and hours of How To Be Human. I promise.”

Cyborg nods and gets down to her task.


	7. Muds, Buddha, zombies.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2D has the weirdest boner right now. Murdoc's black little heart goes soft.

“Fucking idiot! Fucking stupid idiot”, roars Murdoc while he’s holding 2D’s head over the toilet bowl. “Fucking moron! Hasn’t eaten in three days, what’s the first thing he puts in his face? A fucking vindaloo!”

“Well, I like vindaloo”, says 2D meekly, before another surge of bile comes up.

Murdoc growls angrily. But then – suddenly – he begins to rub the back of 2D’s neck with his knuckles. 2D freezes. 

There it is again, this strange soft voice. “You need some food in you. I’ll send Cyborg down to cook you some porridge.” 

“I can’t eat anything now, Muds. I just can’t.” Here comes another wave.

“You will, assclown. I don’t care how you do it, but you’re gonna eat. I’m not putting you on a bloody IV.” 

That sounds more like the Murdoc he knows, thinks 2D. 

“And don’t you think I don’t know why you didn’t eat while I was gone. I know perfectly well, you bloody drama queen.”

It’s one thing to be in love with someone who hates you, thinks 2D, and tears well up in his eyes. But it’s worse if you act like a moron, and that someone knows that you act like a moron because you’re in love with them. It’s so humiliating.

“I think I’m done”, he says carefully.

“Right.” Murdoc helps him to his feet. “Now wash your face.”

2D looks in the mirror. His entire upper body is bright red with sunburn. His cheeks are flushed with fever. His eyes are lying deep inside his skull, and his hair is plastered to one side of his head. He really looks miserable. He wishes he could just lie down and never wake up.

But he can’t, so he splashes his face and rinses his mouth.

“Poor little lobster”, says Murdoc and starts to laugh.

But 2D can’t answer. He retches again. Nothing comes out. His knees shake. 

Murdoc puts his hand on 2D’s forehead. “Bed. Now”, he says, and that’s the end of it.

 

His fever rises during the night. He knows he’s getting worse. He’s burning up. He can’t breathe so well now. He keeps waking up scared again and again, but he can’t move or cry for help. 

Then suddenly, the cool, sweet washcloth on his forehead is back. 2D opens his eyes, and in the blue darkness he can just see Murdoc, propped up on his elbow beside him. Slabs of light are falling onto the bed.

2D thinks he may not make it through the night. He wants to speak, tell Murdoc that he loves him, and if it’s the last thing he does in this life. So he tries.

“Muds… Buddha… zombies…”

That didn’t go too well.

“Sure.” Murdoc lilts and wipes the sweat off 2D’s cheeks. “Don’t try to explain, it’s alright.”

“Can’t breathe.”

“Sit up, honey.”

He obeys. His arms, his chest – everything feels like a million little needles are poking through the skin. Murdoc shoves a pillow behind 2D’s back. It helps a bit. 

2D tries again, and this time it goes better. “I love you”, he whispers.

Murdoc sighs and rubs the cool, wet rag over 2D’s throat. 2D swallows and finds it easier to breathe now. 

“I’ve loved you from the first day”, he adds.

“I know.” Murdoc doesn’t look at him. He stares down at 2D’s chest. “Don’t strain.”

“Okay.” 2D tries to gather his bearings. “I hope I don’t die”, he whispers.

“’course you won’t.” Murdoc wrings the rag in a bowl of water on the nightstand. 

“My mum would be so mad at me.”

Murdoc begins to pull down the cover over 2D’s chest and runs the rag over his sweaty ribcage. 2D sighs with bliss at the relief. The cold friction on his nipples is beginning to feel… strangely erotic. 

“I won’t let you die”, says Murdoc dismissively. “I mean, it’s… not like I can’t live without you. I absolutely can. I just don’t feel like it.” He lays a hand on the left side of 2D’s ribs and feels his fluttering heartbeat. 

2D sighs. It’s hardly his fault that this turns him on, right? Nobody has gently touched or petted him in months. What do you expect, except a boner? Right? 

Murdoc rolls him onto his side and dabs the cool washcloth down 2D’s shoulders and back. “Need to get your temperature down”, he mumbles.

2D sighs happily and settles in on his side. 

“Hang on a sec”, he hears Murdoc say from far away – he’s almost asleep again – and then suddenly:

“ARGH! Ow!”

“It’s just a paracetamol. Hold still.”

“Oomph!” 2D is pressed face first into the pillow, and Murdoc continues poking a finger into his arse. 

2D comes into his briefs then and there. 

When Murdoc pulls his finger out – leaving… something inside – 2D is close to tears. “What are you doing?” he whimpers.

“You mean you don’t know?!”

“I haven’t had one of those since I was five!”

“Stu”, says Murdoc tiredly, and rubs his knuckles over the back of 2D’s neck like he did earlier, “just don’t die, okay? I need you. I’ll try to be nicer to you if you pull through, right? It probably won’t work, but I’ll try.”

“Okay”, whispers 2D. Under the influence of Murdoc’s gentle neck-rubbing, he slowly calms down. 

“And you can hang out with Cyborg and even teach her the whole dictionary, I don’t care.” Murdoc lays his head against 2D’s. “And if you don’t wanna put out any more, I'll leave your arse alone.”

“But I like it.”

“Oh. Good.” 

_He cares. He needs me. He cares._ 2D cries a little, but Murdoc can’t see it. It’s like a huge knot in his stomach has suddenly been unraveled. He can breathe better now.

And so he falls asleep.


	8. Dataports.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyborg wants to know why humans insert pieces of themselves into other humans. Pretty bizarre, when you think about it. 2D gives her the talk. Unfortunately, she gets it a little wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What the hell, Jamie Hewlett? DO YOU KNOW WHAT DAY IT IS?! Not a single little pic on instagram to celebrate the occasion? Tisk, tisk.

He is woken by a finger in his ear. 

“38.2”, says Cyborg. “Your system is returning to its normal functions.”

2D sits up – yes, he’s a lot better, and the pin-pricking feeling from last night has almost vanished.

“Cyborg?”

“Yes, prisoner?”

“You can’t stick your finger into someone without asking first. Or anything, really. You have to ask.”

“I apologize. I did not know.”

“It’s okay. You learned from the best”, says 2D and thinks of the night before.

“I have made you breakfast.” Cyborg puts a bowl of porridge down on the nightstand. 

2D sighs. Porridge makes him think of yesterday, when he was puking his guts out. But then he takes it and spoons it into his mouth anyway. Wow, he’s actually hungry!  
“It’f goo’”, he says with his mouth full. “Fankf.”

Cyborg stands, watching him for a moment, and then she sits down very deliberately on the side of the bed. “Prisoner”, she asks, “will you please explain to me the concept of sexual gratification?”

“No”, squeaks 2D, but then his fever-addled brain comes around to the thought: If I don’t tell her, she’ll ask Murdoc. And do I want _him_ to give her the talk? Oh God, no. So he adds: “Well, alright. But not for long. I’m really tired.”

Cyborg looks at him expectantly.

“Well… you know… dicks. When you use them on other people, they… make you feel good.”

Cyborg nods earnestly.

“And if you’re doing it right, you’re also making the other person feel good. You know, girls have… like… a hole where you can put… your dick and then… you both feel good. Hopefully.” Thank God his face is red and flushed with fever. Thank God he never had to have this talk with Noodle.

But Cyborg nods understandingly. “A dataport.”

“Yes!” says 2D with great relief. “A dataport. But that’s not the only dataport there is. Your fingers, and your mouth, and your… your arse. They can all be dataports, with each other.”

Cyborg puts her hand to her mouth. “I feel nothing.”

2D jumps up in bed. “Well, no! You’re too young to be using your dataports, anyway!”

“Oh”, says Cyborg and nods understandingly. “What kind of data does my master transfer to you?”

“Uh.” 2D is at a loss for words. But of course, he should have known that this question would come. “No data, really.”

“None at all?” asks Cyborg with a sense of disappointment.

“No. You don’t have to transfer data _every_ time.” 2D really hopes that she won’t notice how idiotic this sounds.

“But then why do you do it?” asks Cyborg and blinks.

“Well… because… it’s fun. When you do it with people who look appealing. But you can also do it with people because you love them.” He thinks about it for a moment, then he adds: “As long as you’re not related to them. And as long as they’re not animals. And they must be adults.”

“Oh”, says Cyborg. “The nature of love. This is something else I would like to know more about.”

“Yeah”, says 2D, “but not today, alright?” Tiredness starts to overcome him like a lead curtain. “Love… one kind of love! There are many others, too. – Love makes you want to put your dataports together.”

“This sounds very romantic”, says Cyborg, and strangely, 2D has the feeling that she understands.

He chuckles. “Yeah. Cyborg, I’ll sleep now, okay?”

“Thank you, prisoner.” Cyborg gets up, and 2D can hear her trying to step away as quietly as possible. 

 

Much, much later he is woken by the sound of voices. Cyborg and Murdoc are arguing. 

“ _Dataports_?! What the hell are you talking about?”

“Is it true that you never transferred data to him?” asks Cyborg very quietly.

Murdoc is not so considerate. “What’s he been telling you now?!”

“Is this perhaps why he is so important to you? Does he contain valuable data?” Cyborg adds dutifully: “You should tell me, so I can protect him the most efficient manner.”

“He doesn’t contain data. He’s human”, says Murdoc tiredly. “Although I have my doubts about that now and then.”

Cyborg talks at him quietly. “It is not efficient to keep him in this room. It is much more easily accessible to missiles than the basement.”

“He can’t go down to the basement, not with the broken vent. I need him near. He’s not so well that I can leave him alone. Plus, he needs air and light, and he needs to be away from the whale.”

“I cannot guarantee for his safety.”

Murdoc snorts. “Look, I don’t care how you do it, but I need him safe and healthy. Guard him with your life.”

“As a living being, he seems very fragile”, says Cyborg. “Why do you not synthesize a cyborg version of him? It would be much more robust.”

“Just shut your gob. He’s precious to me, do you get that? He’s the most precious thing I have. I need him well, and I need him near me.”

“I could analyze his vocal patterns”, offers Cyborg, “and imitate his intonation. This would make it easier for you to record his parts while he is defective, or reluctant.”

“That’s got nothing to do with it!”

“Master, may I make another suggestion? I could synthesize a machine with his exact functions for you. Then he could spend more time with me, teaching me how to be human, and you could record audio sequences faster.”

“You – know – nothing – about – humans!!”

“But you mentioned a clear description”, says Cyborg. “I could make a visual copy of his appealing face, and add two holes, one for sexual gratification and one to emit music. You yourself said that there is nothing more to him that is of value for you.” 

There is silence in the room for two seconds. 

“I have assembled some blueprints. Would you like to see them?”

There’s a metallic “clang”, and Murdoc screams. He’s tried to hit her again, thinks 2D and winces in bed. He has to risk a glance, so he opens his eyes. Murdoc and Cyborg are standing beside the bed, Murdoc holding his knuckles, and Cyborg looking blank. They’re both gazing down at him.

“There, now you’ve done it”, rasps Murdoc hatefully. “You’ve woken him up.”

“She didn’t wake me up. You did, with your shouting”, says 2D mopily. 

“Shut up. You’re delirious.” He turns to Cyborg. “Go out there and guard the island.”

When Cyborg is gone, Murdoc suddenly look tired. “Haven’t slept much”, he says and scratches his arm.

2D looks at him, then out of the window. Such a beautiful day! But it’ll be some time before he tries basking in the sun again! “Are you having any guest musicians coming over?” he asks.

“Not now, no.” The bed dips slightly. Murdoc has taken a seat beside 2D. “What I said last night. And just now. Uhm. Don’t you let it go to your head, okay?”

“You’d rather I let it go to my head when you call me a… a bag of meat with two holes?” asks 2D. He just wishes his voice didn’t shake so much. “’cause I let that go to my head alright.”

He feels a touch on his cheek. Knuckles petting him. “Moron. You can’t go around believing every word people say.”

2D wants to fight, but he doesn’t have the energy. So he leans into the touch. This is what he wanted for so long. He closes his eyes and hums quietly.

After a while, Murdoc asks: “Faceache? Are you awake?”

“Yeah, I’m still here.”

“This is hard for me. Just so you know. The hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

2D bats his eyes open. “When you try, you’re not so bad”, he says tenderly.

“I can’t try 24 hours a day."

“That’s alright”, says 2D and closes his eyes.


	9. Getting clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Absolutely no Cyborg in this one, but Cortez makes a tiny little appearance.
> 
> Oh, and Cortez is a "she" here - because Murdoc calls Cortez an "egg-laying alarm clock" in ROTO. So it's got to be a female. That's a dead giveaway. For some reason they always say "he" in canon. I wish they'd make up their minds...

The first thing 2D sees on the morning of day 3 of his juice-and-sunstroke-induced ordeal is the wall opposite the bed. There is a chart. A big chart, covered in squares with little symbols in each one. There are normal things, like little cartoons of apples and houses and ships, but then there are also really abstract signs. Many are hands in different positions. And then 2D spies a blue one. He squints.

It’s a picture of him.

Beside pictures of the rest of the band, in the neighbouring squares.

But the strangest thing is that the chart is covered in scratches and tiny dents. 

He doesn’t remember seeing it before. But then, he was delirious for the last two days. He couldn’t pay attention to anything at the time.

2D has come down to a normal body temperature. In fact, his thoughts are going back to normal things. Like the fact that he stinks like a dead crab. 

Murdoc on the other side of the bed is stirring when 2D sits up.

“Mwfaceache? Whatcha doing?”

“Getting up. Taking a shower.”

“Good.”

2D softly taps over to the board on the wall. “Muds, what’s that chart? The big chart with all the little pictures on it?”

“Oh. That’s Cortez’s.” Murdoc sits up and scratches the corner of his mouth. “It’s how she tells me things. She never learned to speak, stupid bird, but she can peck signs.”

2D stumbles into the bathroom. Just as he’s getting out of his briefs, Murdoc comes in. He eyes 2D up and down approvingly, and then his mouth starts to form the tiniest grin.

“You’re thinking about _that_ ”, remarks 2D.

“Nothing new, huh?”

2D smiles despite himself and gets into the shower.

Murdoc takes off his t-shirt and briefs. “Hang on, I’m coming with you. In case you get a dizzy spell or something.” 

“You’re going to get in the way. I really wanna get clean.” 

Murdoc tries to get in anyway. He pushes against the glass door, 2D pushes from the other side. There is a brief struggle, but 2D is pretty weak and can’t put up a fight. 

“Stay out!” he squeaks.

Murdoc wins. 2D’s feet slide backwards over the tiles, and Murdoc wiggles through the door. Gasping and half-angry, they stare at each other. And there is something in the way Murdoc looks at him, 2D thinks, that makes it hard to breathe. The air seems thicker now.

“Aw fuck it”, says Murdoc and grabs 2D’s head with both hands and pulls him close and kisses him hard on the mouth.

2D makes a muffled sound that was supposed to be a question. But you can’t understand it, because Murdoc’s tongue is now in his mouth. And then, when he realizes what is happening, it hits him like a locomotive. There are fireworks in his belly, the Milky Way before his eyes, and drops of ambrosia oozing between their lips. Murdoc’s tongue is moving through his mouth like a sleek, oily animal, soft and curious.

When they separate, 2D nearly does have a dizzy spell. His knees have grown weak. It’s only Murdoc’s grip on his skull that is keeping him upright. All he can do is sigh in bliss and surrender.

And even Murdoc can’t think of a smart thing to say. They just stare at one another.

Then 2D leans in and kisses back, and this one is just as good as the first.

“Let’s turn on the water”, suggests Murdoc finally from the corner of his mouth. “I feel stupid, standing here dry.”

So they turn on the water, and continue. Soon they’re tangled like shoe-laces. 2D never thought this moment would come, but here they are, and Murdoc lets 2D touch him. Like a lover. 

“Is it very difficult?” asks 2D into Murdoc’s ear.

“Right now”, Murdoc rasps, “it’s easy.” 

Hands everywhere. Skin everywhere. Willies… everywhere. Murdoc knows the way to get 2D worked up. He’s had plenty of practice. But for 2D, this is the first time he gets to play with his prize. And he means to make use of every second! Who knows when Murdoc will allow 2D to touch him like this again.

“Doing good?”

“Oh yeah”, grunts Murdoc. 

And 2D wants to be good to him, oh, so good! He loves every inch of him, every tiny thing other people can’t stand, every single feature that they can’t appreciate. He wants Murdoc to let him in, to that place in his black soul that is still tender and curious, and that speaks with that strange soft voice. And when he’s in, he’ll make Murdoc forget his fear. He’ll _make_ him. And then he’ll make him overstep the borders that hold him back.

Oh yes. And he should start right now! He cups Murdoc’s butt. In the middle of all the fumbling and grabbing and squeezing, he gently lets his fingers run into Murdoc’s crack, and waits what’ll happen.

Murdoc gasps and stiffens in his arms. 2D lifts his head to look at him, but Murdoc doesn’t want eye contact. He lays his head on 2D’s shoulder and breathes. 

“Want me to stop?”

Murdoc huffs under his breath. “No. Keep going. I used to like this.”

With every breath, he relaxes a little more, and he lets 2D go on petting him down there. 2D holds him against his chest, and he’s feeling all wobbly inside. 

He’s so messed up, he thinks. He can never mess me up as badly as he’s been messed up himself. Maybe that’s why he’s often so angry with me. 

 

No business ensues, of course. 2D is still too weak for a fuck in the shower. Later, when they’re dry and dressed, Murdoc leaves. He needs to be alone, and write some music, he says.

“Muds?” asks 2D when he’s almost out of the door. 

“Huh?”

“Can I have a keyboard? You know, not the one in the studio that you make me play, but one for when I _want_ to write a song. In my room or wherever.”  
“There must be one left somewhere. I’ll have a look when I’m down at the studio. Don’t disturb me.”

“Sure.Thanks, Muds.” 2D smiles.

“You… you’re up for writing songs, then?” asks Murdoc carefully. For as long as 2D has been on the island, he hasn’t done a single thing Murdoc hasn’t told him to do. His creativity was frozen. Imprisoned, so to speak, like his body. 

“Dunno. I have a few ideas.” 2D shrugs.

“I’ll bring you a keyboard later. But for now, leave me alone, okay?”

“Sure.” 2D smiles again. “I’ll just have a walk along the beach with Cyborg or something.”

Murdoc stops in his tracks. “Did you… did you tell her you’re… some kind of external hard drive?” he asks suspiciously. “She’s got some strange ideas in her head."

2D shakes his head innocently. “No idea where she got those."

And while Murdoc slams the door behind himself, 2D pushes his face into the pillow so Murdoc can’t hear him laugh.


	10. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who are here for the complex characer development of Cyborg, this is your lucky chapter.
> 
> For those who are here for the sweaty mansex, you're also in luck.
> 
> For everybody else: What are you here for anyway? o.0

The campfire has almost burned down. The stars are coming out. Cyborg and 2D are sitting on the beach and staring into the night. 

“Prisoner?” says Cyborg. “Let us talk about the nature of love.”

The romantic atmosphere has gotten to her, 2D thinks. 

“That’s a can of worms”, he says. “There’s all sorts of love. Which one do you want to know about?”

“All of them, please.”

“Uh.” 2D lies on his back and stares into space. How pretty the stars are! “Well, there’s… family love. Like a mum or a dad loves their child, and their child loves them. Or like you love your siblings. And then there’s… friendly love. You can love a good friend. Almost like a sibling.”

“Which kind of love is the sort that makes people put together their data ports?” asks Cyborg hesitantly, and her face darkens for a second. Is she blushing? Oh God. She’s blushing. She is becoming more and more human every day.

“That’s another sort”, replies 2D. “That’s romantic love. It’s… very different from the other sorts. You can love everybody in your family, and you can love all your friends. But you only have one romantic love at a time. Usually.”

“Why is that?”

“Oh, they get jealous.”

Then they’re silent for a while. The fire crackles.

“How does love feel?” asks Cyborg, who is sitting up tall and looking at the ocean.

2D cradles his head on his arm. “Well, you… you want to be close to someone, and you miss them when they’re gone. And you want to protect them from harm. It’s like you belong together, you know. That’s the same for all kinds.”

Cyborg nods. “I thought so.” She bites her lower lip. When did she start to do that?

Then she turns her face to 2D with an expression of worry. “Do I love my master?”

“Huh?”

“I have no deeper craving than to protect him and always be near him”, explains Cyborg. “I would die sooner than to let anyone hurt him. I would even kill you if you tried. I know that I belong to him. Does this mean I love him, or is this simply something I am programmed to do?”

Damn. This is fucked up, thinks 2D. This is so fucked up that he doesn’t know what to say. So he says nothing for a long time. Then:

“Probably both, you know. He’s like… he made you. So he’s practically your father. Every child loves their dad, that’s normal. But you’re also programmed to do it.”

“Oh”, says Cyborg with an air of relief, “it’s normal?”

“Sure.”

“Prisoner”, she asks slowly, “is my master a good person?”

2D successfully camouflages his snort as a coughing fit. “Well… no, not really, no. But he’s not always bad”, he adds quickly.

“Are _you_ a good person?”

“Well, yeah”, says 2D humbly. “I guess so. Better than Murdoc, in any case. I try not to harm people and I recycle my garbage. So I guess I’m mostly good.”

Cyborg lets the sand run through her hands, and when it’s all gone, she picks up new sand. “If my master is a bad person”, she ponders, “and I obey him, am I not doing a bad thing?”

This got deep quickly. Much, much too deep for a simple mind like 2D’s. “Uh”, he exhales.

Cyborg is watching him anxiously. The answer to this question is very important to her, that much is clear. 

2D needs to think about that. He wanted to empower Cyborg, yes, but now it’s getting out of hand. She’s terrifying as Murdoc’s homicidal slave. But it would be infinitely more terrifying if she were running free and making her own choices. She doesn’t know that you can’t fire a gun into a gasoline tank, for example. She doesn’t know that humans will die if you boil them. She doesn’t know what pain is, or what fear is. She doesn’t even have the empathy to understand why humans don’t want to die! It’s not just that she’s lacking ethics – she doesn’t have a grasp on the basics of existence.

Well, she’s only a few months old, after all.

“You know, Cyborg”, says 2D finally, “I think you should do what Murdoc says. For the moment. That won’t make you bad. You’re very young. You don’t know much. Just rely on him. Children rely on their parents.”

“I will need to reprimand him one day, when I am a person”, sighs Cyborg, “for being bad.”

“Yeah”, nods 2D. “When you’re a person, you have to make up your own mind.”

“Is love the difference between good people and bad people?” asks Cyborg.

“No.” 2D is pretty sure of that. “Even bad people love _somebody_. But… some people become bad because nobody loves them.”

Cyborg nods. “It is fortunate that I am not yet a person, then.”

And this is perhaps the most fucked-up part of their conversation.

 

Later 2D brings Cyborg to bed (or rather, the power station), and sneaks down to the kitchen for a bite. The corridors are dark, and so is the kitchen. Just as he’s about to go into the room, an arm gets in the way at chest height.

“Well, look who’s creeping around the house late at night.”

“You scared me to death, you bastard!”

“It’s eleven. You should be in bed.”

“Why don’t you shoo your cyborg around. She needs a daddy, not me.”

Murdoc comes close in the darkness. 2D feels the need to grab him and hold him close, but he doesn’t just yet. 

“You’ve got to get some rest. Two nights ago I thought you were going to bite the dust. Now you’re having campfires until eleven.”

2D sighs and nods. Yeah, he knows. He’s still feeling ill, but it was so nice out there. So he stayed, even though he was exhausted. 

“Bu-hut… since you’re much better, apparently…”

“Oi! Hands off!”

“Really?” Murdoc sticks his tongue into 2D’s ear. “How’d you like some of this?”

“I dunno…” It’s hard to think with a tongue wiggling in your ear. 

“Here’s my professional opinion”, snickers Murdoc. “One nice fuck per day, before or after meals, should make you better in no time.” He gets on his tip-toes and whispers into 2D’s wet ear: “Plus one intestinal injection, or creampie, for short. I know you like those.”

“Hmmmmm.” 2D leans against Murdoc’s chest. “Yeah… maybe…” His resistance is melting like snow in the spring. Something is right, he can feel it in his bones. So he lets Murdoc drag him up to his room, with the big comfortable bed, and manhandle him out of his clothes and between the sheets. 

_That’s alright. I’m his zombie, after all._ 2D chuckles. _His drugged-up, silly zombie boy._

And then, later, there’s the familiar smell of cherry lubricant, and the familiar gentle pressure as his body opens up and lets Murdoc in, millimeter by millimeter, breath by breath. The same bitter, refreshing feeling as always. They slide together like pieces of a puzzle, and 2D loves it. Loves being full, loves using his body in such a strange way, loves how it gets him off. Loves the guy on top of him.

Here and now, they’re whole.


	11. Dear Cyborg (Love, Clueless in Crawley)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murdoc fights his demons. 2D is helpless - so Cyborg has to play Agony Aunt for a change.
> 
> Contains very, very vague references to prison abuse. Even less detailed than canon. It's not even clear what kind of abuse, so you can read into this whatever you like, but you don't have to.

It was too good to be a long-lasting happy ending, of course. The clock shows two in the morning when 2D is woken up by Murdoc’s voice.

And he sounds like a torture chamber. “No… no… stop… I’ll cut you… stop…”

He’s drenched in sweat. But despite the threats he spits out, he seems more lost than aggressive. 

“Muds?”

“Leave me be. Fuck you, you can’t… ARGH!”

“Muds!” 2D starts shaking his shoulder. Just wake him up! Whatever he’s going through, it's horrible.

Murdoc screams again and punches the air. The third punch hits 2D on the cheekbone. 2D screams too, and Murdoc jumps up like a man bitten by a tarantula. He groans and looks around wildly. 2D grabs his shoulders and turns on the light. 

“You were having a nightmare. And damn”, he whimpers, “you punched me!”

Murdoc glares at him for almost ten seconds, as if he doesn’t even see 2D. “Did I”, he stammers, “did I… say anything in my sleep?”

2D thinks hard about this. “Well, no. Just stop and leave me alone and that kind of crap…”

“Get out.” Murdoc rubs his forehead and clenches his jaw.

“Huh?”

“Get out. You can’t sleep here.”

“But Muds, I want to keep you safe and hold you when you have nightmares…”

“No. I don’t want you sleeping here and listening to me talk in my sleep.”

“I won’t listen, promise.”

“Get out!!” Murdoc snaps, and 2D knows that tone. He flinches so hard he falls out of the bed, and starts gathering his clothes.

“I’ll be down in the basement, okay?” he says quietly. He doesn’t get it, but he knows it hurts him.

“Fine. Just don’t come here and eavesdrop on me!”

“Okay.” 2D hangs his shoulders and puts his trousers on. With his t-shirt over his shoulder, he leaves.

 

“Good morning, prisoner”, says Cyborg. Fortunately, she doesn’t get mad when you wake her with a press of a button, even at two in the morning, attached to all her wires and cables.

“Cyborg”, says 2D, “I’ve got to ask you something now.”

“Of course, prisoner! I will try to be helpful. What is it you want to ask?”

“I don’t know.” 2D admits sadly. “I want to ask _something_ , but I don’t know the words.”

Cyborg hums patiently.

2D stares into the darkness. He’s getting cold now, so he puts his shirt back on. “Cyborg”, he says, “if Murdoc treats you unfairly, does it make you angry or sad?”

“Cannot process _unfairly_.”

2D sighs. “If he is mad at you when you haven’t done a bad thing. Does it hurt you?”

“No”, twitters Cyborg. “I am his, to do with whatever he pleases.”

“But I’m not”, sighs 2D.

Cyborg makes processing noises again. “Are you sure you haven’t done a bad thing? He would have no reason to be angry if you had not.”

“Some humans get angry without a reason”, 2D sighs again. “And Murdoc is the worst of them all.”

“Would this not be a waste of his energy?”

2D shrugs. “It’s a waste of mine, too.” There is a big lump rising in his throat. 

“How can he keep up such lavish energy levels”, wonders Cyborg, “without a need for it? As far as I understand, anger is a means to protect oneself from abuse.”

2D thinks about this. It’s actually a very good definition, he thinks. Unfortunately, he himself doesn’t have much anger in him, so he doesn’t protect himself from abuse too well.  
“He thinks I’m eavesdropping in his sleep”, he says. “Like he’s got a secret he doesn’t want me to know. I mean – yeah, I know he’s got a dozen secrets going on. I don’t know half of what I wish I knew. But this one is… something bad. I can tell.”

“Why does he not wish you to know? Is it perhaps bad thing he has done?”

“Maybe. Or…” 2D bites his lip. _Anger is a means to protect oneself from abuse._ He always knew what this meant, in the heart. Murdoc is angry because people have done bad things to him. Story of his life. He’s never been ashamed to tell, because those bad things have made him tough. But there’s other things, too. Deeper-lying things even he doesn’t want to talk about. In his dreams, he does, though. And since he can’t help it, he has to make sure that no-one hears him. 

“I think it’s shame”, 2D says finally.

“A very interesting emotion, from what I have read about it”, says Cyborg politely. “Human nature seems to me to become more complex the more one finds out about it. Many things humans do seem contradictory.”

2D sighs. “You’re right about that. You know… I love him.”

“I heard you telling him.”

“I want to protect him. But I can’t.”

“Perhaps you do not need to?”

2D thinks about this for a long while. Then he has an idea. “You know, Cyborg, thank you. I’ve got an idea for a song. See you in the morning!”

“Sleep well, prisoner. Please remember to switch me off.”

 

2D writes until three in his underwater bedroom. Then he falls asleep. He wakes up at seven and has another look at his new song.

It’s good. It’s really good. He needs to do something with it. So he walks up the stairs, all the way to Murdoc’s bedroom. Clouds of cigarette smoke meet him halfway.

“Muds?”

Murdoc is sitting cross-legged on his bed. In jeans, and nothing else. In front of him is an ashtray. It’s overflowing with cigarette butts. The whole rooms smells like Murdoc has been up smoking all night. His eyes have even darker bags than usual.

He gives 2D a dirty look. 

“Muds, I have to tell you about this new song I…”

“Shut up. I gotta tell you about Tijuana.”

2D stops in his tracks. Did he miss a piece of the conversation? What’s Tijuana got to do with anything?

Murdoc squashes the next cigarette butt into the ashtray. “I told you you don’t wanna know what went down in Tijuana.”

2D nods – filled with good will, but no understanding at all. Yeah, sure, Murdoc said that, but that was two weeks ago. Why is it important now? Something tells him that it’ll keep _him_ up all night too, when he hears it. “You know”, he says carefully, “you’re right. I’m not so keen to find out, really.”

“Well, I’m telling you anyway, while I have the guts, and you’re gonna listen.” Murdoc taps his finger on his knee nervously. “Got a fag? That was my last one.”

“Yeah. Here.” 2D sits on the bed and holds out his packet.

“So.” Murdoc lights it and draws one deep breath through it. Two more like that, 2D thinks, and the cigarette will be gone. “I haven’t told anyone in, what, seven years. If you spill a word of it, I’ll kill you.”

2D nods, because he somehow understands that this is important.

And then he finds out all about Tijuana.

 

There is nothing pretty about it. Lots of things that were bad, and others that weren’t half as bad as Murdoc wished they were. 

“Right. Now you can sleep here all you want. You won’t find out anything new”, Murdoc huffs finally. His face looks like that of a mummy – tense and sunken at the same time.

“Okay”, says 2D and puts his head in Murdoc’s lap, and then they say nothing for a long time.

Finally, it must be mid-day, Cortez comes fluttering to the window. 2D sees her hop on her perch in front of the chart with the coloured pictures.

“Muds, look”, he says.

Murdoc, who’s been dozing, looks up. “Ah. She’s going to tell me stuff again.”

“Does she make sentences?”

“Nah. But here I’ve got people, see? And here, verbs. And these are the little words, like out of, into, beside, under. She taps them, and I just make sense of it.”

2D has a funny thought. “Does she lie? To mess with you?”

Murdoc shakes his head. “She’d better not, mate!” Then he purses his lips. 

Cortez hops onto the perch in front of the chart, and pecks one picture.

_Russel_

_Russel_

“Oh, there she goes again.”

“Why does she peck Russel?” asks 2D and leans forward over Cortez’s back.

“Don’t ask me. She’s been at it since last Tuesday. Every time she comes home from a flight. I knew what that means.”

“Maybe he’s coming here”, whispers 2D. “On a ship.”

“There are no ships on the radar. No ships on the radar, no submarines, nothing! I mean, he can’t well swim here.”

“Well, he sure wouldn’t sink”, 2D chuckles, and Murdoc can’t help but grin a little.


	12. Dates and dataports.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murdoc has thought of something special for 2D: a date. He's not much good at them, but he's trying hard. And, I can tell you this much, he gets lucky.

Everything is going better now. Studio work is going better. They record from seven in the morning to midnight, for three days, hardly eating and hardly sleeping, and then it’s a wrap. All the vocals are finished. There’s still a lot to do – editing, kidnapping a producer – but for now, the stress is over.

2D can’t stop thinking about Cortez’ message. It can’t be a mistake. Not if Cortez keeps tapping it over and over. Russel must be on the way here somehow. Oh. How good it would be to see him again! Even if – 2D thinks with a sigh – it’ll only make them even more aware of the loss that’ll never heal. Noodle.

So he often sits in the sand with his eyes on the horizon, or stands at the highest railing of the building and looks out for Russel. But nothing. No ships, no helicopters, not even any Black Clouds. 

The basement door is not locked anymore. Plastic Beach is not a prison now, even though the future is uncertain. 

And then he thinks about Murdoc, and his heart overflows every time. How long has Murdoc been into him? He’ll probably never know, but they’re together now. Not only that – he’s the only one who knows Murdoc’s deepest, ugliest secrets, and he loves him all the more for it.

 

He’s thought of spending the evening alone in his room, watching zombie movies, but at seven the door flies open and Murdoc stands there, rubbing his hands.  
“Right, faceache. Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“The beach.”

“Why?!”

“You’ll see.”

“Is there anything exciting at the beach?”

“Shut up and wait for it.”

2D sighs, switches off the TV and gets up. He was watching that, damn it. But it has to be.

A fire is burning in the night. There are a couple of blankets on the pink sand, and a wooden box.

“What’s that, Muds?”

“You like campfires, don’t you?”

“Yeah, it’s just… I didn’t know…”

He sits on one of the blankets. Murdoc takes a seat on another one. 

“Why are we here, Muds?”

“Will you shut your face and wait for it?!”

2D looks around. He listens into the darkness, but there’s nothing except the occasional cry of a seagull and the soft rush of the waves against the sand.

And Cyborg’s steps, of course.

“Good evening master, good evening prisoner”, she says. 

“Oh. Have a seat”, offers 2D.

“No. She’s not sitting with us”, says Murdoc quickly.

“But why? You never let her have fun”, 2D complains, and decides to stand up for his friend. “Come on, Cyborg. Sit down. You’re welcome here, just like everybody else.”  
“Shut your face”, says Murdoc through clenched teeth, but Cyborg obeys and sits down.

“She can celebrate with us”, says 2D truculently.

“Cannot process _celebrate_ ”, says Cyborg curiously.

“When you’ve done something really good. Something really big”, explains 2D. “Then you get together and… well… celebrate.”

“Overeat and drink too much”, translates Murdoc. “The secret is to do too much of the stuff you like, until you can’t stand it anymore.”

“I see”, says Cyborg. “Since I do not eat or drink, I cannot celebrate with you.”

Murdoc nods.

“But you can be here”, says 2D, “and that’s nice.”

“I suppose I could try the flavour of the drinks”, she says, and her irises constrict and focus on the box behind 2D.

2D turns around. “Oh yeah. I hope there’s beer in it!” And he opens the lid. There is beer. There is also wine, vodka, a small bottle of whiskey, lemonade. Perfect. The only thing that doesn’t look like it belongs there is the lube bottle with the tissues…

The scales fall from 2D’s eyes. 

This is… a date. 

Why didn’t Murdoc just say so?! 

“Look, missy”, Murdoc hisses at his slave, “you’re not going to try anything. You’re going back to the kitchen to check on the food, alright?”

“Yes, master”, says Cyborg without a trace of emotion, gets up and walks back to the house.

Murdoc glares angrily at 2D.

“Sorry, Muds”, whispers 2D while Cyborg walks out of earshot, “I didn’t know why you wanted her gone! What’s for dinner, anyway?”

“Pizza. Dumbass.”

“It’s not my fault that you have to make everything complicated.” He slides closer to Murdoc. “But I like it, I really do.”

“Hmpf.” 

“We’ve done a good job those last few days.” 2D looks out at the sea. “With everything.”

“Yeah, we’ve come pretty far”, says Murdoc. 

“What do you think, will Russel be mad when he finds out that we’re a couple?”

“We’re not a _couple_. I just happen to like you, and you’re a lucky bastard for it.”

“But anyway, do you think he’ll be mad?”

“He’s gonna rip me to shreds when he finds out I’ve been keeping you in the basement. I don’t think we’ll even get to the point of coming out.”

2D chuckles, but then he remembers what a shitty time he had down there, wondering if he was being used, or abused, or loved. He leans against Murdoc’s shoulder, and they both fall backwards into the sand. 2D uses Murdoc’s surprise and leans over him. 

“I wanna call the shots this time.”

“In your dreams.”

2D leans down for a kiss. “Please.”

What a kiss can do to soften a man! “Alright. Exactly for as long as I like it.”

2D rubs his denim-clad crotch over Murdoc’s, and they kiss again, this time with tongues. 

“The sand’s gonna get _everywhere_ ”, chuckles 2D. 

 

They don’t get much time to make out and dry-hump. Cyborg comes back exactly seven minutes later with two plates of pizza: one veggie, one diavolo. They smell delicious. She puts them down in front of the guys and stands by like a waitress.

“Ta”, says Murdoc hungrily. “You can go. We don’t need you any more today.”

Cyborg shuffles one foot in the sand and hums with effort at being convincing. “I would like to stay, to learn more about human interaction.”

2D shakes his head. “Not today, okay?” He leans over to her and mouthes: “Dataports!”

Cyborg gets it immediately, and she says it very loudly. “Oh! You are going to engage in sexual gratification?”

“Yeah”, growls Murdoc. Like she should have known. “Now piss off!”

“This is very interesting to me! May I stay and conduct a visual study, master?” 

At first, Murdoc doesn’t get what she’s asking. But then he clicks. It’s lucky that his eyes are so deeply sunken into his head, otherwise they would have popped out now. 

Cyborg continues innocently. “The principle and purpose of dataport conjunction is still quite enigmatic to me. Perhaps I would understand more easily if I could see the process.”  
“Fuck off, you freak, and don’t you DARE to come back and watch!!”

“It would be educational”, Cyborg argues.

2D is more understanding. “Cyborg, humans don’t want to be watched when they do that”, he tells her. “They want to be left alone.”

“Oh”, says Cyborg. “So you would not allow anyone to see you connect your dataports.”

“No. Nobody.” 2D shakes his head.

"Not even Noodle?" asks Cyborg jealously. 

" _Especially_ not Noodle", squeaks 2D. 

“I see”, nods Cyborg dutifully. “I will go back to the house and connect myself to my power station.”

And she toddles off.

2D breaks down laughing silently. Murdoc scowls. “You think it’s funny? Wait ‘til you see what she’s done to my dick with her creepy requests. It may well be Antarctica down there. Ugh.”

2D has to bite his knuckles to keep from laughing out loud. Cyborg is not quite out of earshot yet.

Murdoc snorts. “Nothing to get you in the mood like a creepy fucking robot asking you to let it watch.”

“You had to build her, didn’t you.” 2D gets a beer from the box and opens it. “Beer?”

“Yeah. At least she makes good pizza.”

2D takes a bite out of his and nods happily. “You know, this is lovely. Beach, beer, pizza. I never had a date like that with a girl. They expect you to pick the location and hold their chair and everything.”

“I’ve never had a date, full stop”, says Murdoc with his mouth full of pizza. “Always struck me as a waste of time, filling a girl up with food and spending hours on her, when there’s plenty of girls who just want a quick shag, and that’s all.” He notices 2D’s soft gaze. “But, well… since we’re here, and there’s nothing else to do, right… I may as well waste some time.”

“Aw”, smiles 2D happily.

“It’s nothing special, asshat.”

“I know. The pizza’s really good. Lovely place, too. We should come here more often.”

The pizza is gone soon. 

“So”, asks 2D smugly, “I get to call the shots, like we said earlier?”

“Sure. If you can get me going, knowing that Princess Circuit-Board wants to see us fuck.”

“Yeah, I know something to relax you. Take off your shirt.”

Murdoc, muttering under his breath, obeys. 2D pushes him down, flips him over and sits on his back.

“Urgh”, groans Murdoc. “Don’t sit on me, I’m full of pizza!”

“Will you behave!” 2D chuckles and rubs some lube between his hands. 

“Hm-hm. I aim to misbehave. Oh. Uuuuargh.” Murdoc’s ribs crack under 2D’s palms, but his groans sound very pleased. “Hm. Argh! Sweet Satan, that feels gooood….”

“This isn’t porn, you know. I’m just giving you a backrub”, giggles 2D.

But Murdoc moans and groans like an old whore. “Oh yes, up left, please. Uh. Right there!” One shoulder blade springs into place with a cracking sound. 

“You’re full of knots.”

“Keep doing that. Oh yeah. Yeah, just like that. _Ah_. Oh yeah.”

2D is good at backrubs. It’s his favourite thing to soften up girls before a shag. It never fails. But girls don’t moan like that. His jeans are getting really tight. “Is this your idea of foreplay? ‘cause you’re getting me all hot and bothered.”

“I’ll do a lot more of that. Later. Hmmmargh! That’s so goooood!”

2D bends down and kisses the back of Murdoc’s neck. “I’ve never really sucked your cock, have I?”

“No… I guess not…”

“I’ll do that later, alright?”

“Oh _yes_.”

2D keeps on kneading Murdoc’s back, and rubbing his crotch against Murdoc’s butt, until he can’t take it anymore. Things down there are getting way too hot and throbby. He’s not a spring chicken any more, he’s probably only got one shot for the next few hours, and he shouldn’t waste it into his pants.

“Turn around now”, he tells Murdoc, and Murdoc obeys, frantically fumbling his trousers open. 2D swallows. There’s his prize. He’s never really seen it up close, considering Murdoc always takes him from behind. And also, he knows what a good blow-job is when you receive it, but he’s never given one before…

Murdoc doesn’t seem to care. He’s biting his lip and looking up at 2D with pleading eyes like he’s never done before. 

“Okay, here goes.” 2D gets between Murdoc’s legs and snubs his hard-on with his nose. The smell is alright. That’s good. He gives it a tentative lick, and Murdoc gasps.

This is easy!

2D licks the tip and then takes the whole thing into his mouth with a long suck. Murdoc groans like a dying man. “Oh Satan, yes, please, go on”, he whimpers. “Don’t you fucking stop.”

“You’ve sodded me so many times, why do you sound like you haven’t had any in years?” grins 2D.

“It’s different. I haven’t had _this_ since we came here. Please. Go on. Oh, faceache!”

2D kisses up the sides and licks the tip again. Wiggles the tip of his tongue in the slit on top. Suckles along the underside – everything he’s received from girls in his past. Murdoc loves all of it and says so very loudly. In fact, he’s cursing like a sailor, but he’s getting more and more pliable.

“Stu… Stu… faceache”, he whimpers finally, and sits up. He clears his throat. “So, you wanna end it like this? Or… do you want to fuck too? ‘cause if you keep going, I’m gonna shoot my shot and then I’ll be no use.”

2D grins. He knows what he wants. So he grabs the lube, and struggles out of his trousers and pants. Murdoc pulls his jeans down to his knees without ever taking his eyes off 2D. He’s transfixed, panting and hoping.

“I’ll be on top”, says 2D, and straddles Murdoc’s hips.

Murdoc puts his hands on 2D’s butt cheeks and spreads them. “Oh yes”, he groans. “Come on. Please.”

“In my own time”, replies 2D smugly. He pours lube onto his hands and reaches behind himself. Murdoc’s cock is weeping against the inside of his leg. He slowly pushes one finger in, closes his eyes, concentrates. Then another – this is a bit harder, and it hurts a little. He whimpers.

Murdoc’s eyes are as big as saucers. “Easy”, he gasps. “Relax. Slow.” (He means the opposite. He really wants to say he’s going to die if he can’t fuck within five minutes, but he knows he can’t say that.) His fingertips come around to 2D’s puckered hole, stretched around his two slim fingers. Fumbling and playing together, they prepare 2D for the impact. 

And finally 2D grabs Murdoc’s cock, gets more lube, spreads it on Murdoc’s dick, holds it in place and begins to push down. Slow, like they always do it, millimeter by millimeter, breath by breath, until his hole begins to suck in Murdoc’s cock on its own accord. 

“Argh. Oh shit. Oh, faceache!” groans Murdoc. 

2D, filled pleasantly all the way up his lower back, starts to move experimentally. He’s used to just being fed cock and taking whatever rhythm Murdoc dictates. But this is different. This is his show, and he’s going to call the shots. (For as long as his own arousal and the muscles in his legs allow it.)

So he moves slowly, enjoying the sensations of in and out. Tries a new angle. But he has to keep his eyes closed, because every time he opens them, Murdoc looks up at him with the widest, funniest, most astonished expression 2D has ever seen. It’s hot, yes, terribly hot, but it’s also hilarious, and you can’t just start laughing your head off in the middle of a fuck. 

They don’t last long, 2D pushing forward and up and then back down and backward, pushing Murdoc’s cock right into his prostate, and Murdoc holding 2D’s cock in hand. Murdoc comes first, and then 2D, trying his hardest to get off before Murdoc’s cock slips out of him. Good heavens. When he finally comes, his heart rate is so high, he thinks he might be dying of a heart attack. But that would be okay. It can’t get better than this.

Finally, they’re lying on their blankets, sandy and sweaty and sticky. 

“I could get used to this”, says 2D finally.

“Yeah”, nods Murdoc, looking up at the stars. “I see what dates are for, now. It gives the whole experience a certain je-ne-sais-quoi. Bitches don’t have that.”

“Do we need to get back to the house?” 2D pulls a blanket over them. “We could just sleep here.”

“Too cold, once you’ve cooled down.” Murdoc fumbles his pants back on. “Although I wish we could sleep here. I really don’t wanna get back to Cyborg and her unhealthy questions.”


	13. Jam II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyborg has figures out how to be creative. 2D is starting to think that she is becoming TOO good a replacement for Noodle. Murdoc doesn't think so. And then he drops a bomb.

Murdoc doesn’t want 2D in his room all the time. Especially not every night. But they are together now. Even if Murdoc says they’re not a couple – that’s exactly what they are. The recording is finished. Now Murdoc is just cutting parts, correcting pitch and timing, and considering which instrumental tracks to take out and which to keep in. He’s busy.

“You wanna watch a zombie movie?” 2D asks Cyborg one rainy day. Even watching movies has become fun again, when you have the choice to do something else instead.  
“I would rather play you something I have jammed”, explains Cyborg with an air of importance.

“Sure.” 2D passes her his beat-up campfire guitar and a pick. He hasn’t much hope. Last time she jammed, she simply played quarter-notes randomly along a scale. It could hardly be called a melody. The concept of beauty, he thinks, is beyond her.

Cyborg sits down with an air of importance, tunes and begins to play. It’s a pleasant little tune. 

And 2D doesn’t believe even for a split-second that Cyborg wrote it herself. “Did you really jam that _yourself_?” he asks skeptically.

“I did, prisoner”, says Cyborg proudly. “It is based on a very simple algorithm, which I extrapolated from the Golden Section. Prisoner, is there something wrong? Why is your mouth so wide open?”

“I”, stammers 2D, “I… I didn’t know you could do that. I didn’t know _anybody_ could do that.”

“The Golden Section has been a standard of aesthetic pleasure for hundreds of years”, explains Cyborg, “so I thought it would make a good basis for melody-writing. Does it please you, prisoner?”

“Yeah”, nods 2D. “It’s… it’s nice.”

“Should we show it to Murdoc?” asks Cyborg hopefully. 

He’ll never take it, 2D knows it. He won’t want it, now that the album’s finished. Cyborg will be so disappointed, poor thing! But maybe… maybe… if Murdoc doesn’t have to do much, and they give him a finished song instead of a little melody, and all he has to do is program the drum machine and play his part…

“You know, Cyborg, I have a better idea”, he says. “Let’s write some lyrics to it, and figure out the chords, and find a basic arrangement. Then we can show him a whole new song, and maybe we can put it on the album.”

Cyborg nods. “But I cannot write lyrics. I have barely mastered the art of writing pleasant melodies – words function on so many different levels, they are far too complex for me. I can express things, but not in pleasing ways.”

“I’ll do that”, says 2D, the knight in shining armour, and puts his keyboard on his knees. “Play it to me again. I need to figure out the chords first.”

 

And so they write, and 2D listens to the melody and the rhythm, and from the depth of his soul words come up, scrap by scrap. And at five in the afternoon they have a finished song.

“I’ll just write down the lyrics”, says 2D, rolls over on his bed and starts a new page on his writing pad. He has three sheets of lyric scribbles, but he needs one clear version.

And this is when steps come down the stairs, and Murdoc comes in without knocking. “Oi, faceache and Cyborg”, he says. “Cyborg, my girl, get to the kitchen and make dinner for us.”

“Yes, master”, says Cyborg, looking expectantly at 2D.

“Muds, we have something to show you”, 2D saves her. “We’ve written a song.”

“Huh? Together?”

“Yeah, together. Her melody, my lyrics.”

Murdoc looks taken aback. “Alright. You’re gonna show me right now?”

“Yeah”, says 2D and sits beside Cyborg, his keyboard on his knees. Cyborg smiles at him nervously. Oh Buddha, Murdoc has got to like this song. If not, Cyborg will be devastated.  
“One, two”, counts 2D, “one, two, three, four…”

He nearly messes it up when he forgets the bridge. Cyborg plays with perfection. Murdoc stands there, looking doubtful, scratching his chin. But the longer he listens, the more the corners of his mouth pull upward. And after they’ve finished, he grins. 

“Do you like it?” asks 2D carefully.

Murdoc grins. “Yeah. We could use that.”

“You think we can put it on the album?” asks 2D quickly.

Murdoc looks skeptical. “It’s gonna be an arseload of work, recording another song.”

“Aw, come on, Muds”, wheedles 2D. But it’s Cyborg whose big, mechanical eyes soften the green man’s heart. 

“Well”, he says, “alright. Let’s do it. Let’s give it another five days of recording. And not one more. Well done, Cyborg.”

“Thank you, master”, says Cyborg, her voice bursting with pride.

 

2D has never seen her so happy. And he thinks sadly that she really _is_ becoming a replacement for Noodle. Not _like_ Noodle, but a musically apt guitar player. Someone you can work with. And at the same time, he realizes that she has become more of a person he ever thought she could be.

It’s good. It’s beautiful. But it’s also sad.

When Cyborg is gone, he turns to Murdoc. “She’s becoming a player in her own right. She’s even starting to create.”

“Yeah”, grins Murdoc, “she’s my masterpiece. Told you so.”

2D sighs. “It’s just… I don’t want her replacing Noodle. This is all wrong. All of this is happening because Russel’s gone insane and Noodle’s dead.”

Murdoc sighs. “Look, faceache. That was five years ago. You’ve got to let the past go.”

“It’s not that easy.” 2D buries his face in his hands. “Not half that easy. You can’t forget someone you loved like that. Well, _you_ can, apparently, but I can’t.”

Murdoc is silent for a while. He lights a cigarette and leans against the wall. 

“Look, faceache”, he says finally, “if all of this hadn’t happened – Russel going coo-coo, Noodle disappearing – we wouldn’t be here. Now. Together. I wouldn’t have hooked up with you if they were still here. Isn’t that something?”

2D looks up at Murdoc, and suddenly he feels anger rise in his belly. “That’s all you think about?”

“It’s something.”

“She’s _dead_! Dead, Muds! You made her get on that island, and you, you sent all these helicopters to attack her, and then… you… it all went wrong!”

“I didn’t mean for her to get harmed!”

“I know, but it did happen!” 2D’s throat is tight. He can hardly breathe. “It was your dumb idea, and it got her killed! And then Russel went crazy because he loved her so much…”

“I think he just went crazy. He wasn’t exactly normal before.”

“And… and then you tell me… that it’s alright, and that it’s something because you’re shagging me now and Cyborg can play a few chords! It’s not alright! It’ll never be alright!”

Murdoc clenches his teeth. “Why do you start blaming me now? Why did you never say a word before?”

2D sobs. “Because you never pretended that it was alright, until now!”

Murdoc hisses: “Listen. You just learned to work with Cyborg. You can do it. You like her, don’t you? Work with her then. It’s not alright. It’ll never be alright. But we can’t get anything better.”

“You just try to… to replace Noodle! It’s not the same thing, you know, right?”

“Yeah, I do, you twit!” shouts Murdoc angrily. “Deal with it. Noodle’s gone. She’s not coming back!”

How can you say such a thing with such a cold, stony face? How can you not break down and cry when you hear these words, let alone when you say them?

2D’s face grows hot with anger. “Stop saying she’s gone. She’s not _gone_. She’s dead, and all because of your stupid idea. She’s dead. Why can’t you say it? Just admit it. She’s dead. Dead!”

Murdoc bites his lip and shakes his head, and still he looks so… aloof. Like he only cares very little. “Well, I’m sorry”, he says. “But worse things happen at sea, you know.”

“You got her killed, and now you just try to replace her!” Tears are rising in 2D’s eyes. “You. You don’t see anybody but yourself, you just shed… debris and broken people along your way! You’re the one who got her killed, and you’re telling me you’re sorry? You’re not sorry.” 

“You have no idea how sorry I am.”

“Oh yeah? Well, you don’t look sorry! You never cried for her. Not once!”

“I don’t cry!” Murdoc’s voice almost snaps.

“But for Noods?” shouts 2D, and his voice is becoming more and more high-pitched. “She was like your child! Like your little sister! You’re not human. You’re not even fucking human! Not even… not even a word that you regret it!” 2D swallows. “That you regret that she’s… dead.”

Murdoc’s chest heaves. He wants to shout, but then he thinks for a moment, and then he says in an exhausted voice: 

“She’s not dead, though.”

And the bottom drops out of the world.


	14. Just a lowly little machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noodle may be alive, but 2D has to realize that she's not coming back. Cyborg has he proudest, happiest moment as a new songwriter. It would be a good time to move on. But how can you?
> 
> (Aaaand we're heading for the show-down.)

2D’s knees give in. His butt drops onto the chair, but the chair nearly topples.

“Not dead?” he whispers. “Noodle’s not dead?”

Murdoc stands in the middle of the room, arms hanging by his sides, deflated like a balloon. “Yeah.”

“What do you mean… not dead?”

“ALIVE, DUMBASS!!”

“But then… where is she?” asks 2D, and his voice is barely audible.

“Who knows? She moves in mysterious ways.”

“I mean it, Murdoc, where is she?! Tell me!” 

“I don’t know. But I know she’s alive. She died on the flying island and was taken to hell. And I got her out.” Murdoc gives him a dangerous look. “Don’t ask how.”

2D knows better than to pry into this. “But then why isn’t she with us? Why doesn’t she write? She could message me, or phone!”

Murdoc spits the words out as if they’re bitter. “Look, faceache. She could, but she won’t. That means something.”

It slowly sinks into 2D’s consciousness. “You mean… she doesn’t want to come back?” he whispers.

“Yeah.”

“She’s done with Gorillaz?”

Murdoc shrugs. For a while, they’re silent. Then Murdoc adds: “Well, you can understand it, can’t you. Quick career as a child star… but she’s an adult now. She grew up in show business. Maybe she’s had her fill. Maybe she wants a normal, boring life, where nobody knows her.” And he nearly breaks his teeth on the next sentence: “She’s got the right.”

2D’s heart sinks. Noodle doesn’t need them anymore. She won’t even message. All the time he was thinking she was dead, he had this great gash in his soul, like an open wound that wouldn’t close. But now… there is nothing but sadness, deep sadness. She’s not coming back. She’s not coming back because she doesn’t want to. She never needed Gorillaz. But Gorillaz always needed her.

Still. She’s alive!

“We should go look for her”, he says. “Just to meet her.”

“If she doesn’t want to be found, she won’t be found.” Murdoc shakes his head. “You know what they say. The suckers who do proverbs. If you love someone, let them go.”

2D becomes aware that he has to say goodbye to Noodle for the second time. This time, it should be easier, because he knows she’s alive and happy somewhere. But it’s not easier. It cuts like a knife. 

_You’ve got to let the past go._

Everything falls into place now. “So that’s why you made Cyborg”, mumbles 2D. “First I thought you were trying to replace Noodle ‘cause you were mad with grief. But… you replaced her to show that you can.”

“Yeah. If she leaves _my_ band, I’ve got the right to find a replacement. My way.”

“That’s the price you made her pay”, whispers 2D. “You let her go, in return for a genetic copy.”

“Yup”, grins Murdoc. “She just didn’t know.”

2D gasps. “Noodle doesn’t know about Cyborg?!”

“How? She never even calls. I’m not telepathic, you know.”

2D buries his head in his hands. “This… this is such a mess. My brain hurts.”

“It always does. That’s nothing new. Now do you think you can warm up to your new friend and get through that last song, now that we’ve come this far with the bloody album?” asks Murdoc roughly.

2D thinks of Cyborg, curious and lost as she is, and he slowly nods his head. It’s more of a letting-his-head-hang-low, but Murdoc takes it as a yes.

“Good then. Do a demo for me, so I can get started on the drum machine tonight. I want to record this song in five days. I mean it.”

 

Precious little Cyborg. She is, to all intents and purposes, as happy as she can be. She is so proud that she has created a thing that pleases real humans! She sits in the recording studio, dangling her legs and playing with precision. She records all her parts in less than two hours. 2D takes much longer. Murdoc does it overnight, so nobody knows how long exactly he takes. 

And when 2D sees her sitting in the recording booth, exuding excitement, he thinks that maybe, maybe this could work. But eventually she looks up, and he realizes that she looks like a crude parody of Noodle, with apertures for irises and a circuit board in her brain. If only she didn’t look so much like Noodle! If, say, Murdoc changed her hair and her nose, and the shape of her eyes? The colour of her skin? But all these things are in her DNA. You can’t change them without changing the entire 40% of flesh and brain on her body, and then she would be neither Cyborg nor Noodle.

And when 2D is in the recording booth, he sees Murdoc outside at the mixer, and Cyborg on a chair beside him, closing her eyes when Murdoc plays back the tracks, and the smile on her face becomes almost human. This is what she’s made for, thinks 2D. She’ll be very happy if she’s allowed to become a musician.

On the evening of day four, they’re done with the final song. 

“Great work, everybody”, declares Murdoc. “We’ll start mixing tomorrow.”

“Master, can we listen to the song one last time for today?” asks Cyborg. 

“Alright, girl”, grins Murdoc. “But it’s not a _song_. It’s not mixed, it’s not mastered. It’s just the raw recordings, don’t forget that. It’s going to get a lot better.” He turns the studio speakers on, and the sound washes over them. 2D leans back and listens (hopefully for the last time today, because unlike Cyborg, he can get fed up with hearing the same song over and over). 

It’s good. It’s very good. And he says so as soon as the sound stops.

Cyborg agrees. “I feel accomplished”, she says. “I have to thank you, prisoner. If you had not taught me about human ways, I could not have written a song.”

“Hey, hey, hey, let’s not forget who built this brilliant little brain”, says Murdoc and jabs his finger into Cyborg’s forehead. “Faceache’s taught you a lot, but you’re still _my_ masterpiece.”

Cyborg realizes that she is the center of attention. Everybody is praising her. Her, a lowly little machine! She is humming with happiness. Her solder points are nearly melting with pride. 

“Thank you”, she says. “I thank both of you. I never dreamed I could become so useful.”

 

For 2D, it feels like a new morning. Pale and cold, but a new day. They can work something out, he thinks. A lot of things are wrong, but many are right. And it’s the best he can hope for, right?

But this night, he wakes up and it’s dark, but he knows someone’s right next to him. He looks up, and there’s Noodle’s face. Just over him. Where did she come from? He should be happy, but he’s clammy and cold and scared of her. 

“Toochi”, she says and stares at him with her eyes, her real, human eyes, “you kicked me in the back.”

He wants to speak, but can’t.

Her words are like an ice-pick, hitting into the darkest, most shameful spot of his soul. He has kicked her in the back. That’s all there is to it. He doesn’t want to look at her any longer, but he can’t look away. She doesn’t threaten him, but she doesn’t need to. Her terrible, terrible look is enough to freeze him to the core. 

He must have whimpered or cried out, because somebody shakes him. It was a dream. Oh hell yes! 2D holds on to wakening like it’s a lifesaver.

He’s sleeping in Murdoc’s bed. The alarm clock says it’s half past seven. Morning light is seeping in through the blinds.

“What’s wrong?” growls Murdoc sleepily. “You have a nightmare?”

2D sits up, and reality hits him like a cold wave. The dream may be over, but the problem is still there.

“We’re not Gorillaz any more.”

“I am”, replies Murdoc smugly. “As long as you’re with me, we are.”

“It’s all wrong”, whimpers 2D. “It’s like I’m all twisted. Like… like a joint that won’t pop back in its socket every again. It’ll always feels wrong. Like I can never be happy again.”

Murdoc grabs him by the hips. “Come on”, he growls. “I’ll take your mind off it."

2D closes his eyes and lets his body carry his mind away. And for a few blissful seconds, Murdoc actually makes good on his promise.


	15. The messenger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cortez has something to say.

As soon as the orgasm is over, the sadness is back. But it’s a little frayed around the edges. Not cutting so deep any more. And suddenly, 2D realizes that it’s getting harder and harder to remember what Noodle looked like. What she smelled like. 

He’s losing her. 

He tries to remember as hard as he can, and the feelings are still there, but the picture is getting more and more blurry. 2D realizes that he is very, very slowly beginning to heal. He’s starting to move on – after all these years. 

Noodle let him go a long time ago. Now, knowing it, he’s letting her go as well. His heart aches terribly, but it’s aching for a memory. Not for something he really needs any more.  
He’s not sure if that’s good or bad. But it’s making him want to cry. 

“What’s wrong, faceache? Still sad?”

“Hum.” 2D nods. Murdoc ruffles his hair wordlessly.

While he’s lying there, considering everything quietly, there’s a visitor at the window. It’s Cortez, of course. Her feathers are ruffled. She caws excitedly, hops in through the window and straight to her chart. Waiting for attention.

2D isn’t too happy about Cortez’ judgmental looks at their afterglow, but Murdoc doesn’t mind. 

“What’s going on out there, girl?”

Cortez sits on the perch in front of her chart. She taps a tile with a ship symbol, then one with fire.

_Ship fire_

_Gun_

“What, here?!”

_Far far far_

_Plane plane plane fire fire_

_Coming_

“Planes and ships, and fire? An explosion?”

_Fight fight_

_Coming_

_Coming_

“But far away?”

_Yes yes_

“Oh, good.”

_Russel_

Murdoc sits up. “There she goes again, see? Always knocks Russel, two or three times.”

But Cortez doesn’t stop after two or three knocks. She just goes on hammering the tile, faster and faster. Her feathers are fluffed up. She’s agitated.

_Russel Russel Russel Russel Russel Russel Russel Russel_

“Cut it out, you feather bag!” growls Murdoc, ready to throw a shoe.

_Russel Russel Russel Russel_

_Noodle_

Murdoc freezes, shoe in the air.

_Noodle Noodle Noodle_

_Russel Noodle Russel Noodle_

_And_

_And and and and and Noodle and Russel and Noodle_

2D lets out the air very, very slowly. Whatever is going on here, it’s important. There’s a shiver running down his spine.

Cortez moves further down on the board. 

_Coming_

_Coming_

_Coming Russel Noodle and coming and coming_

_And coming and coming Russel Noodle and_

_Now._

“Is… is it true?” whispers 2D.

Murdoc turns around. He only says two words: “Get dressed.” And then he grins, and 2D’s heart skips a beat. That’s the smile he knows. The first thing he saw after he woke up from his coma in a parking lot, all these years ago. This big, mean grin of disbelief that one can be so lucky.


	16. Coda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gorillaz are reunited. And some things are inevitable.

The battle has all but destroyed the island. The palm trees are torn, bits and plaster have come off the building. The Black Clouds are dead or shattered and gone. The whale has got the fright of its miserable cetacean life and fled. 

And then Russel, giant Russel, opens his mouth, and out comes Noodle. Little Noodle – not all that little now, but still a small woman, like they always thought she would be when she grows up.

Russel lets her get on his palm and puts her down in the pink sand. There they are, all four of them.

Nobody wants to be the first to speak. Finally, Russel begins, and his deep voice makes the ground shake under their feet.

“So how have y’all been?”

“You’ve come back after all”, says 2D tonelessly. His heart is so full of joy that he can’t even feel it. If he could, it would probably burst. So his mind stays blank, for protection.  
“Did you ever doubt that?” Russel grins. His huge teeth glint in the sun. He may be a behemoth, but he’s still Russel, and he’s apparently come to peace at last.

2D nods, but the joy begins to bubble up and he can’t keep it under control any longer. “We missed you”, he wheezes.

“You didn’t make it easy to find you”, grins Russel.

“Yeah, and with good reason”, replies Murdoc and looks around the beach. “I had a few… unfortunate run-ins that made me careful.”

Noodle says nothing. She is staring straight ahead. No joy, no surprise, nothing.

“Noods?” asks 2D and makes a move to touch her shoulder. “Are you alright? Are you mad at us?” 

“What is this?” asks Noodle in a thin voice.

Then he realizes – Cyborg is standing behind him, staring right back.

They look like sisters, just a few years apart.

Cyborg lowers her gun. Her irises constrict. Her chin lifts. Then she says: “Are you Noodle?”

Noodle pulls up her top lip in disgust.

“Well”, says Murdoc. “This is awkward.”

“I was made to serve in your function in your absence”, says Cyborg and smiles her horrid, non-human smile again. 

“Lay the gun down, Cyborg”, says Murdoc.

Cyborg obeys. 

“What the fuck?” asks Noodle in a toneless voice. “Where the hell did you get that thing from?”

“I am pleased to meet you”, says Cyborg. “The prisoner has told me much about you. As you have now returned, I am released from the task of replacing you. I must ask my master to assign me a new task, or else, leave me to my studies of Becoming Human. I hope we can become friends when I am human”, she adds sincerely.

Noodle, without taking her eyes off Cyborg, cowers down and picks up the gun.

“Get out of the way, boys”, she says quietly, and then she blows Cyborg to pieces.

 

No electrode bath can save her now. She has been spread over the whole beach, screws and springs and hair and diodes blown into microscopic bits.

Noodle drops the gun and turns her attention to Murdoc and 2D. “I should rip your balls off”, she says to Murdoc, who flinches. They have never seen her so angry. But then, the anger drains from her face, and she throws the gun into the sand.

2D comes closer. “Noodle – is it really you?”

“For a moment there, I wasn’t sure which one was the real me”, sighs Noodle, and then she jumps at his neck and starts to cry with joy. 

And this is the end of Cyborg, and the end of their separation. But a cold fear begins to creep into 2D’s heart. Will it also be the end of… the things Murdoc and he got up to at night? Will everything go back to how it was?

It never will. Not for 2D, at least. Even if the rest of the world forgets all about it, 2D won’t

And while Noodle lets go of him and hugs Murdoc with the determination of a boa constrictor, 2D says hi to Russel, and hugs his thumb (that’s all he can do) – but he can’t crack a smile any more. Not really. Is this the end? His heart threatens to break all over again.

“What’s wrong with you, man?” asks Russel quietly, but the whole beach shakes under the rumble of his voice. 

2D sighs. What’s he supposed to say?

“He’s sad about his little robot mate”, snickers Murdoc and lets go of Noodle. 

2D gasps. His throat constricts. He can’t breathe. This – this is the ultimate betrayal. 

Russel raises his voice. “Alright. What’s he done to you while I was away?!”

2D can just muster up a very, very thin voice. “Nothing.”

“What in Satan’s name is the matter with you, faceache?”

2D draws himself up to his full height, but he can’t say a word.

“Oh. Yeah. Since you two are going to kill me anyway when you find out.” Murdoc steps up to 2D, grabs his head with both hands and kisses him hard on the mouth. With tongues. 2D’s heart stops, and then it starts thumping even harder than before. Oh God. Oh Buddha. Oh yes.

Murdoc pulls his tongue out of 2D’s mouth and grins at the others. “He’s mine now.”

Russel pulls up an eyebrow. “What do you mean, now? I thought you’d been at it since I met you.” 

Noodle just snickers. 

“And that’s a nice love shack”, says Russel and looks up at the white building.

“It sucks. I hated it from the first day.” Murdoc pats Noodle on the back. “And the robot was alright, but she wasn’t the real thing.”

Russel grins. “What do y’all say? Shall we go home?”

2D slowly comes back to his senses. “Yeah, let’s go home”, he says, and it’s like saying the magic words that will wake you up from a long bad dream.

 

Well, the future is here. But it’s got no place for Cyborg. 

2D looks back at the island, as they’re leaving it for the last time, his elbows on the railing.

Noodle joins him with soft, human steps. “Toochi, are you going to miss the island?” she asks. “You look so sad.”

2D sighs. “I know… you won’t like me saying it, but – I wish you hadn’t killed Cyborg.”

“She was horrid, even I was frightened of her! And I just went through hell. Literally.”

2D nods. “Yeah, at first sight she was creepy. But she was… she was kinda my friend.”

“Toochi”, says Noodle very sensibly, “you think _Murdoc_ is your friend, and he beats you.”

 _I always thought that a friend would not damage your tissues on purpose…_ Cyborg said that, a long time ago. Or, well, not so long ago. Eight or nine weeks, maybe. Strange. It feels like that was in a different life. A paler, more threadbare life.

2D sighs. Every time he finds something nice for himself – be it the fun fair, his new life in Beirut, or making Cyborg into a human being – something gets in the way, for the greater good of Gorillaz. And here’s a new chapter. Cyborg isn’t part of it. It’s not a choice, it’s just a fact of life.

“She _was_ my friend”, he says. “She was good to me, really. You would have liked her, if you’d known her. Of course, she wasn’t as much of a friend as you are, but…”  
“Maybe”, says Noodle, trying to make peace. “Maybe I should have held my horses. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too”, says 2D, but then he thinks of sleeping with Murdoc tonight, and cooking with Noodle in the future, and hanging out with Russel, just like they used to, and everything falls into place. The puzzle is complete. 

And the pink dot is swallowed up by the endless blue ocean.


End file.
